


I'll Cross the Sky for You

by superhoney



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Coffee Shops & Cafés, Alternate Universe - Space, Anal Sex, Baker Dean, Blow Jobs, Bottom Dean, First Meetings, Gratuitous Pastries, Just Add 'In Space' To All of These Tags, M/M, Minor Jessica Moore/Sam Winchester, Some Interplanetary Drama, Space Captain Castiel, Top Castiel, casturbation, deancastropefest
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-01
Updated: 2017-09-01
Packaged: 2018-12-21 19:59:39
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 33,364
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11951556
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/superhoney/pseuds/superhoney
Summary: Castiel thinks it sounds ridiculous: a spaceship that’s also an Earth-style coffeeshop? But upon his first visit to The Family Business, he quickly realizes that the owner, Dean Winchester, is incredibly handsome, the pastries are delicious, and the coffee is out of this world.One visit leads to another, and before long, Castiel is completely won over by both the coffeeship and its owner. It’s hard to maintain a relationship when you’re constantly flying across the vastness of space, but for the sake of both his heart and his stomach, Castiel swears he and Dean will make it work.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is my entry for the 2017 edition of the Dean/Cas Tropefest, and I'm so excited to finally share it with everyone!
> 
> Thank you to my incredible artist Aceriee, who brought me to (happy) tears on more than one occasion. Please visit the art masterposts [on AO3](https://archiveofourown.org/works/11905833) or [on tumblr](https://missaceriee.tumblr.com/post/164863643328/illustrations-made-for-ill-cross-the-sky-for) and leave some love for the stunning artwork. 
> 
> Thank you to the challenge mods, Jojo and Muse, who have been so supportive and encouraging and committed to all of us participants. Thank you also to everyone in the Tropefest chat, for help and support and some truly unforgettable puns.
> 
> And, as always, thank you to Anna, beta-reader and cheerleader extraordinaire.

The first time Castiel hears about _The Family Business_ , he thinks it’s a joke. Who needs an entire spaceship devoted to serving coffee when every ship in the galaxy comes equipped with a galley that can instantly materialize any sort of food or beverage desired?

“You don’t get it,” Charlie says, clearly frustrated. “It’s so much better than the instant stuff, Cas. Captain. Sorry.”

Castiel waves away her slip-up in addressing him by name rather than by title. “Charlie, we’re not taking a trip across two systems just to go get coffee when we can get it in our own kitchen.”

“It is exceptional coffee,” Hannah, his second-in-command, chimes in. “But they also make some of the best pastries I’ve ever tasted.”

“It’s cool, too,” Gabriel says, twirling around in his chair despite Castiel’s glare. “It looks just like a coffee shop back on Earth.”

Castiel pinches the bridge of his nose. “Why are you all so nostalgic for that planet,” he mutters.

“You didn’t grow up there, I did,” Gabriel reminds him. “It had a lot of problems, true. But there are some things worth remembering about it. Some things worth revisiting.”

Perhaps his cousin has a point. Castiel was born here, among the stars. He’s never had a planet to call home-- only this ship. His parents were among the first to journey into outer space, and they never looked back, never returned to Earth. They raised Castiel here, and when they died, they left him command of the _Seraph_. 

For the first time in his life, Castiel almost regrets his position of authority. His officers are looking at him with identical pleading expressions on their faces, and as much as he doesn’t want to go tearing across the sky for _coffee_ , of all things, he can tell how important this is to them.

They’re all he has left in the way of family, and he would do anything for them.

Castiel sighs. “Charlie, set a course.”

Charlie lets out an excited noise somewhere between a shout and a giggle, then quickly recovers her composure. “Calculating distance now, Captain.”

Gabriel claps him on the back, more comfortable with casual affection than the other crew members since he has the privilege of being related to the captain. “Good call, Cas.”

“Just this once,” Castiel warns him. “And only because we have no other missions at the moment.”

He may as well have said _only because we have nothing better to do_. The _Seraph_ is a multi-purpose vessel, contracted out to various galactic enterprises, mostly for the transport of important passengers who wish to avoid using their own diplomatic vessels for whatever reasons. Castiel is fairly certain that their last guest was going to the far side of Jupiter to see a clandestine lover, but it isn’t his place to ask questions. He and his crew are known for their discretion, just like his parents were before him. Castiel is committed to maintaining that reputation.

But he and the crew are between assignments, and if this is how they wish to spend their time, he’ll go along with it. Castiel has never been the type to abuse his position of authority, and unfortunately, his crew knows it. Which means they take shameless advantage of his easy-going nature, but when he does enforce certain codes, they respond well.

It’s a system that has worked pretty well for them so far.

“I’ll be in my cabin,” he informs the others. “Alert me when we arrive.”

“Of course, Captain,” Hannah replies, with a gesture that’s somewhere between a wave and a salute. Castiel nods to them, then leaves the bridge. His head aches for some reason, and he could use a break from the bright lights of the command deck.

The Captain’s quarters on the _Seraph_ are larger than most, because it was designed for the comfort of Castiel’s parents, who shared command of the vessel before him. Most of the time, he appreciates the extra space, but some days, the wide bed feels empty with just him in it. He sits down and drops his head into his hands.

“Dim lights,” he says, then has to repeat himself because his voice isn’t clear enough for the ship’s voice-activated systems to pick up on. 

The lights dim obligingly, and Castiel stretches out on the bed, enjoying the dark and the quiet. He loves his ship, his crew, and the work that they do. But there are times when he just needs to be alone with his thoughts, to seek comfort in the calm between missions. To recharge himself, so to speak. 

He must have drifted off to sleep, because the next thing he knows, Gabriel’s voice is coming over the intercom, telling him that they’ve reached their destination. Castiel rolls out of bed with some reluctance, pausing to straighten his dark grey uniform, ensuring that the golden wings stitched onto the left side of the chest are properly aligned. Then he leaves his quarters and rejoins his crew on the bridge.

At first glance, _The Family Business_ is underwhelming. It looks old, though reasonably well-maintained, and it’s not as big as Castiel was anticipating.

“We travelled all this way for this?” he says, raising a skeptical eyebrow.

“Just wait,” Charlie says with a grin. “Come on.”

There are several small docking bays that jut out from the main portion of the ship, and Charlie delicately maneuvers the _Seraph_ into one of them. Castiel is the last to leave the ship, casting a longing look behind him as the others chat excitedly about what they plan to order. It’s a short walk through the docking tunnel, and then they’re inside. 

Castiel stops dead in his tracks, completely unprepared for the delicious smell that hits him as soon as they step through the door. It’s a mixture of butter, spices, chocolate, everything warm and good and comforting.

Hannah looks back at him, and there’s a small smile on her normally serious face. “See, Captain?”

“Yes, yes, you were right,” he mutters, still distracted by the incredible aroma of the place. 

Once he finally gets over his surprise, he takes a look around. Gabriel mentioned that it’s modeled after popular coffee shops back on Earth, but Castiel doesn’t have that point of reference. He will say, however, that he quite likes the ambiance of the place.

Rather than one large opening onto the sky, there are smaller windows along three of the walls, with chairs and small tables grouped around them. Closer to the centre of the room are couches and larger, low tables. The lighting is warm, and even the colour palette of the room is darker and earthier than the clean whites and greys of most ships. 

Despite his initial reservations, Castiel has to admit that it is quite an impressive place.

“You doing alright?” a female voice asks, shaking him out of his reverie. Castiel looks down to see a small blonde looking at him, a hint of suspicion on her face. There’s a nametag pinned to her green apron that reads “Jo.”

“Yes, thank you,” he says, regaining his composure. “It’s my first time here, and I was...surprised, to say the least.”

A grin breaks out over the young woman’s face. “First timer, huh? Great.”

She grabs him by the elbow and steers him over to the counter, her grip surprisingly strong for someone of her size. “Wait here,” she instructs him.

Castiel glances further down the counter, where Hannah, Gabriel, and Charlie are waiting with matching looks of anticipation on their faces. He sends them a pleading look, but they just shake their heads.

“I hear we have a first timer here,” someone says, and Castiel looks back across the counter at the man who has appeared from behind the door marked “Staff Only.” 

Oh. Perhaps he’s the reason this place is so popular.

The man is stunning. There’s no other word for it. Strong build, a beautiful smile, a scattering of freckles across his cheeks, and a pair of warm green eyes. 

Castiel swallows nervously, suddenly aware that he’s been staring for longer than is socially acceptable. “Uh, yes,” he stammers. “My crew,” he indicates the others with a nod of his head, “insisted that we stop by.”

“I’m glad they did,” the man says, his eyes sweeping over Castiel’s face. His voice is low and intimate. “I’m Dean, owner and manager of this place.”

“It’s a fine establishment,” Castiel replies. He winces at the formality of his own words, but thankfully, Dean just chuckles. 

“And you are?”

“Castiel. Er, Captain Castiel Novak, of the _Seraph_.”

“Well now, Captain, what can we get for you today?” Dean asks with a wink.

Castiel can feel a blush rising in his cheeks. Dean’s smile is wide, and his eyes are warm, and Castiel hasn’t been with anyone in a long, long time…

“I hear our coffee’s pretty good,” Dean continues, “but I may be biased.” His tone is slightly teasing, and he’s certainly laying the charm on thick.

Perhaps a little too thick. It feels forced, somehow, and then he realizes-- it’s probably part of Dean’s business strategy, to encourage customers to come back in the hopes of seeing that smile again.

Castiel straightens up, his posture defensive. “I don’t particularly care for coffee,” he says. 

Dean frowns slightly, obviously noticing the change in Castiel’s demeanour. “Okay, fair enough. Hot chocolate? Warm apple cider? Tea?”

“Tea, perhaps,” Castiel agrees. “Green, if you have it.”

“Coming right up,” Dean says, and though he smiles again, it seems strained this time. Good, Castiel thinks to himself. It’s probably about time someone resisted all that smooth charm. 

When Castiel tries to pay, Dean waves him off. “First timers always get their drinks on the house, Captain.”

There’s little warmth left in his voice, yet Castiel can’t help but respond to hearing Dean address him by his title. He wonders what it would be like to hear him say it in a different tone-- one deeper, darker, slower…

No, he tells himself firmly. The man may have decorated this ship well, and it does smell pleasant, but part of its success surely lies with him and his empty flirtations. Castiel will not be tempted. He’s here as a favour to his crew, to thank them for all their hard work, not to be distracted by handsome men with pretty smiles for everyone who passes through the doors.

He joins the rest of his crew at the couch and chairs they’ve selected. “So, what do you think?” Charlie asks eagerly. “Pretty cool, right?”

“Yes,” Castiel agrees. “I stand corrected.”

Jo brings over a steaming mug of green tea and places it on the table in front of Castiel. “Anything else we can get for you?”

There’s a chorus of polite no’s, and with a wink, she leaves them to enjoy their beverages. 

Castiel sips his tea, taking in the atmosphere in the room. It really is quite nice, and the tea is rather good.

It’s a shame that the owner is such a mercenary flirt.

***

“Hey, you might wanna tone it down with the staring,” Jo advises as she rejoins Dean behind the counter. “I could feel it all the way across the room when I brought him his drink.”

“I am not _staring_ ,” Dean hisses. “I’m _glaring_ at him. Arrogant jerk.”

Yeah, so the first timer Captain is attractive. Not like they haven’t had attractive customers before. But he’s obviously got some attitude problems, and Dean doesn’t have the time or patience for that. 

He really is attractive, though. 

“And what is glaring, other than staring with a particular emotional force behind it?” Jo’s voice is smug.

Dean scowls at her. “Don’t you have drinks to make? Pastries to arrange in the display case in a visually appealing manner?”

“Last time I tried to do that, you told me I was doing it wrong,” Jo reminds him. “So no, I’m just going to enjoy watching you attempt the strangest combination of dagger eyes and heart eyes I’ve ever seen.”

Dean sticks out his tongue at her. Very mature, he knows. But Jo’s basically a little sister to him, and their bickering still tends to fall into familiar patterns from their childhood.

“What’d he do to piss you off, anyway?” Jo asks, leaning on the counter and crossing her arms over her chest. “You were flirting up a storm last time I saw you.”

And yeah, hearing it described that way makes Dean wince, but it isn’t entirely inaccurate. “I was flirting,” he admits. “The minute I walked out here, I was like woah. Dude’s smokin’ hot. And he seemed, uh, receptive at first. Definitely caught him checking me out. But then all of a sudden he went all stiff and cold.”

“So, hang-ups about being hit on by another guy?” Jo suggests.

“Maybe,” Dean shrugs. “Or he’s not available. Or he’s one of those takes-his-duties-too-seriously-to-ever-have-any-fun kind of guys. He is a ship’s captain, after all.”

Whatever the reason, Novak’s abrupt change in demeanour hurt. Dean’s a friendly guy-- it’s part of this place’s recipe for success. He’s used to being well-liked, and especially since he doesn’t know what he did wrong, he’s stung by Novak’s rejection.

“There are plenty more stars in the sky, Dean,” Jo says, patting him on the back. “Go make something full of chocolate so we can bemoan our single status while eating it. I’ll handle the front.”

“Thanks, Jo,” Dean says. He tugs on her blonde ponytail, and she swats at his chest affectionately. He dodges the blow and heads back into the kitchen area.

This is Dean’s quiet place. He loves being out front, interacting with the customers and the rest of the staff, but the kitchen is where he truly feels at peace. Jo’s right, he should make something with chocolate. Croissants, maybe? Yeah. That sounds perfect.

He gets started on the dough, his hands working mechanically. He’s been running this ship for a few years now, but he’s been cooking and baking for his entire life. It’s as natural to him as breathing.

The guy said he didn’t even like coffee, for crying out loud. What kind of person comes to a coffeeship and doesn’t even like coffee? He seemed happy with the tea, at least. The part of Dean that still wants to make a good impression on Novak is happy about that. 

Maybe he’s just having an off-day. Maybe he’ll come back, and he and Dean can start over. Because Dean’s positive that there was a spark there, an immediate interest that he hasn’t felt in a long, long time. 

“Plenty more stars in the sky,” Dean mutters to himself, echoing Jo’s earlier words. 

It’s not like he’s lonely or anything. He has Jo and Benny with him basically all the time, and Ellen’s always dropping in to check up on them and give them pointers on their recipes. Most of the time she brings Bobby with her. And then there are the regulars who have become friends-- Victor, the quietly sarcastic Galactic Law Enforcement official with a weakness for vanilla lattes, Ash, who’ll spend hours sitting in the corner drinking black coffee and working on mysterious projects, and Donna, who also works for the Enforcers and is one of their best taste-testers.

And yeah, okay, he misses his brother. A lot. He and Sam spent so many years basically on their own against the universe, and now Sam’s off negotiating peace treaties with hostile systems and doing all sorts of other official things that Dean pretends to scoff at. He’s incredibly proud of his little brother, of course, but it just sucks that he has to travel so much.

Sam never knew any other kind of life, though. Their mom died back on Earth when he was just a baby. Dean is the one who remembers a house, a car, the sky above them instead of all around them. After years of their dad dragging them across the galaxy on his semi-legitimate trading runs, Dean’s happy to be settled somewhere again. But Sam’s still in love with wandering and exploring and doing good at the same time. His career suits him, and he visits Dean as often as he can. So Dean makes sure he’s easy to find when his brother needs him, and tries to not smother him the rest of the time.

It’s just hard, sometimes. Dean has almost everything he’s ever dreamed of: a successful business that brings him both stability and satisfaction, good friends, a good relationship with his cobbled-together family. But he still wants something else: someone to share it all with.

He wonders how Lisa’s doing. They had a thing a few years ago, and it was pretty serious for a while, but then she went back to Earth, and Dean wanted to stay out here. Last time he heard, she had a son she was raising on her own. He’s proud of her for that, and he hopes she’s happy. Maybe she’ll bring the kid out to visit someday. 

The croissants are ready to go in the oven, so Dean adjusts the temperature and slides the tray in, munching on an extra chunk of chocolate while he waits for them to bake. He loves that they have the technology to produce food instantaneously on most ships in the galaxy, but there’s just something about doing it the old-fashioned way. Considering how busy this place normally is, he’s obviously not the only one who thinks so. 

“Whatcha’ making there, chief?” Benny asks, pushing open the door to the kitchen. His hair is mussed from his nap, but his eyes are alight with their usual mischievous twinkle.

“Chocolate croissants,” Dean answers.

“We run out already?” 

“Nah, these are for us.”

Benny nods understandingly and comes to stand by Dean beside the oven. “Who’s having a bad day, you or Jo?”

And that right there is why Dean really can’t complain too much about his life. He has people like Benny, who’s seen him at his absolute worst and still sticks around to eat pastries with him. Benny’s been through enough crap himself-- his ex-wife left him for someone she met on a mission and never looked back-- but he’s still hanging in there. 

“Thought I had a thing going with a customer for a minute, but it went south pretty fast,” Dean says with a shrug. “Not the worst thing that’s ever happened to me, but still kinda sucks.”

“Hence the chocolate croissants,” Benny says. “If you were making something all chocolate, I’d know it was a real big deal.”

“Exactly.”

“I’m gonna grab a coffee to go with those. Latte for you?”

“Yes please,” Dean says gratefully. He loves pretty much every one of their drink offerings, but certain beverages pair better with certain pastries than others. There’s just something so simple and perfect about a latte and a chocolate croissant. And Jo’s good at what she does. Every one of her drinks is expertly and lovingly crafted. Dean wouldn’t have it any other way.

Benny comes back with their coffees just as Dean’s pulling the croissants out of the oven. Once Benny’s done with his, he’ll go relieve Jo out front so that she can enjoy them as well. That’s the way they do things here-- constant rotation so they all get equal time working and equal time relaxing. They’re in operation around the clock, so their customers always know they have a place to come and get their fix, no matter the time of day. 

So that’s what Dean is going to focus on. He’s got good food, good friends by his side, and they do a small yet good thing wherever their ship takes them. Who cares if some blue-eyed space jerk brushed him off? He’ll probably never even see the guy again.

Dean takes a large bite of his croissant. It’s warm and flaky and the chocolate is perfectly melted. He closes his eyes and moans in pleasure. Beside him, Benny’s chewing with his eyes closed as well, a look of total bliss on his face. 

Yeah. Dean’s life could be a hell of a lot worse.


	2. Chapter 2

Castiel drops into his chair with a sigh. “Are we there yet?” he asks, looking over at Charlie.

“Almost,” she assures him. “We pick this guy up, bring him back home, and then we’ve got a few days off, Captain.”

“Thank the stars,” Castiel mutters under his breath. The past weeks have been very busy for the crew of the _Seraph_. A series of diplomatic events bringing together representatives from over a dozen planets have led to a number of important persons needing transport, and Castiel’s ship and crew have been in high demand. It’s flattering, and he’s incredibly proud of them, but he’s also tired. They haven’t travelled so far with so few breaks in between in years.

“Entering Troian airspace now,” Charlie announces.

“Hannah, send a transmission to the embassy. They should be expecting us, but it’s polite to alert them to our approach anyway,” Castiel instructs.

Charlie maneuvers them closer to the planet’s surface, and soon enough, their destination appears before them. There are several people standing on the landing platform, and Castiel is grateful that they won’t have to wait for their passenger to arrive. The sooner they get him to his destination, the sooner they can relax.

Once they’ve landed, Castiel turns back to Hannah. “With me,” he says to her. “Charlie, Gabriel, we shouldn’t be long. It looks like our guest is ready to leave immediately.”

The other two officers salute crisply, and Castiel leads Hannah down the ramp and onto the embassy’s landing platform. He approaches the small group of people clustered there, unsure which is the one they’ve been hired to transport.

“Captain Castiel Novak of the _Seraph_ ,” he announces. 

The tallest of them, a man a few years younger than Castiel, smiles and offers a hand. “Sam Winchester,” he says. “I believe you’re my ride.”

Relaxing at the friendliness in the other man’s voice, Castiel returns the handshake. “We’re ready when you are, Ambassador Winchester.”

“Please, call me Sam,” the ambassador replies.

Castiel nods, then he and Hannah wait respectfully while Sam says his farewells to the others, some of whom seem to be from Troia, while others wear the same olive-branch pin as Sam, indicating that they share his profession. One of them, a young woman with curly blonde hair, leans up to press a kiss to Sam’s cheek before he leaves, and Castiel smiles to himself at the pleased expression on Sam’s face. 

Pulling himself away, Sam picks up his small bag and joins Castiel and Hannah. “Let’s go.”

Castiel leads the way back onto the ship, with Sam behind him and Hannah bringing up the rear. 

“Welcome to the _Seraph_ ,” she says to Sam with a friendly smile before heading back to the bridge.

Sam is looking around the ship with great interest. “I’ve heard of this ship,” he says. “One of the first of its kind.”

“Indeed,” Castiel says, standing a little straighter as he leads Sam towards the quarters he’ll occupy during his stay. “My parents were its co-captains before me.”

“Keeping up the family tradition,” Sam notes with a smile. “Impressive.”

“Thank you,” Castiel says. He finds Sam very easy to talk to, unlike some of the others they’ve shuttled around over the years. It’s a nice change. “I understand you’re heading for Gemitar?”

“Yeah, time to make my reports on all the meetings and committee hearings I’ve attended over the past weeks.”

“Well, we hope to deliver you as quickly and as comfortably as possible,” Castiel says, punching in the code to open the doors to the guest quarters. “This is your cabin. Please let me know if there’s anything we can do for you.”

“Right now, I think I need a nap,” Sam says with a grin. “Thank you, Captain.”

“My pleasure,” Castiel says, and leaves him to his rest.

“Prepare for takeoff,” he says into his communicator as he strides down the passage towards the bridge. The ship rumbles to life below him, and Castiel feels a wave of contentment wash over him. This is what they do, and they do it well. 

“Say the word and we’re outta here,” Gabriel announces as Castiel joins them. 

“Let’s get our passenger home,” Castiel replies.

Charlie grins and takes them back up into the sky. “That was one of the most straightforward pick-ups ever,” she says.

“Yes,” Castiel agrees. “Ambassador Winchester is very easy-going.”

“Not like some of our previous guests,” Gabriel says with a smirk.

“Urgh, I know.” Charlie rolls her eyes. “That one guy who kept going on about how unique I was, how special? I’m so glad you kicked him off the bridge, Captain.”

Castiel grimaces at the reminder of Dick Roman, an incredibly wealthy businessman who hired the _Seraph_ to take him around to various planets with his shady business propositions. Castiel had been very glad to see him deposited back on Earth, and hopes he never hears from him again.

“I’m sure we won’t have any problems with this one,” he says to Charlie. 

Just then, the intercom goes off. Hannah raises an eyebrow at it before answering. “Hello, Ambassador,” she says. “How can we assist you?”

“Permission to join you on the bridge?” Sam’s voice is scratchy, but not worried. More excited, Castiel thinks. Strange. But he nods at Hannah.

“Permission granted,” she says.

“I think you spoke too soon,” Gabriel comments. 

The door slides open to admit Sam, who smiles sheepishly at them. “Sorry,” he says. “I don’t mean to be a nuisance.”

Castiel gives Gabriel a warning look. His cousin sometimes has a habit of being too casual with their guests, and while some don’t mind at all, it’s best to avoid any potentially awkward situations. 

“How can we help you?” Castiel asks politely.

Sam scratches at the back of his head. His attitude is endearing, with no hint of the entitlement that many of their passengers display. “I was wondering if we could make a slight alteration to our destination,” he says. “I thought it would be best to ask now before we got too much farther. I’ll happily pay for any extra costs, of course.”

It’s not the first time plans have changed suddenly. Castiel shrugs. “Where would you like to go?”

Sam shows them a map on his personal communication device. “I just heard from my brother, and he’s not too far away. I haven’t seen him in weeks, and it seems like a good opportunity.”

Castiel glances at it, and Sam’s right, it’s barely off their current course. But then he looks closer at the highlighted destination: _The Family Business_.

He sighs. He doesn’t particularly want to return there, but they don’t have to go in, he supposes. They can just drop Sam off and be on their way. “Alright,” he says to Sam. “Charlie?”

Sam walks over to join Charlie at her station, and soon she’s smiling and nodding enthusiastically as she alters their course. “You said your brother is there? Cool, I love that place,” she says.

“Yeah, he runs it, actually,” Sam says, his pride evident in his voice. “Nice to hear that you’re a fan.”

Sam’s brother runs _The Family Business_. That means Sam’s brother is Dean. The same Dean who has been on Castiel’s mind ever since they met a few weeks back, despite Castiel’s attempts to remove him from his thoughts. 

He can somewhat see the resemblance now. But Sam is so friendly, so open and honest, while Dean seemed so much more deliberate in his charms. 

“We were just there not too long ago,” Gabriel chimes in. “But I have been craving more ever since.”

“That’s perfect, then,” Sam says with a grin. “I’m glad it won’t be too much of a bother for you.”

 _It will for me_ , Castiel wants to protest. But he keeps that thought to himself. He doesn’t want to offend Sam by making a dig at his brother, who he’s obviously very close to. 

“It’s an interesting concept,” he says instead. “Where did your brother come up with the idea?”

“We were born on Earth, but our dad dragged us off-planet a lot as kids,” Sam explains. “Then he’d dump us with old family friends for awhile, then take us away again. A lot of instability. It was exciting sometimes, but it got to be a bit much. I think Dean just liked having places he could rely on, places that stayed constant. The coffee shops on Earth are like that. They’re reliable. So he took that concept, but brought it out here.”

Castiel shouldn’t find that as appealing as he does. But what Sam said about stability, it’s how he feels about his own ship, about the work that he and his crew do, carrying on his parents’ legacy. Maybe he and Dean have more in common than he thought.

“But you still travel,” Castiel points out.

Sam shrugs. “Yeah, I do. For important reasons. But it is nice to always be able to check in on Dean’s ship and say yes, I’ve got somewhere to go to feel at home. That’s the balance.”

“We’ll be happy to take you there, then,” Castiel says firmly, and is treated to a brilliant grin from Sam in response.

“Won’t be long now,” Charlie adds. “It’s a shorter trip than our original course, actually.”

“Perfect,” Sam says. “Someone around there will fly me out to Gemitar after I get my visiting in. We’ve got a whole crew of extended family who are always coming in and out of the place.”

It looks like Castiel and his crew will be getting their time off even earlier than anticipated. He’s quite pleased with the situation, even if it could become potentially awkward seeing Dean again. He knows the crew won’t want to just drop Sam off and go. They’ll want to stay for awhile, start their vacation in style. 

And Castiel will just have to do his best to deal with the strange attraction he feels towards Dean.

“Guess I’d better go pack my things back up,” Sam says with a rueful laugh. “Honestly, though, thank you for being so flexible.”

“We do our best,” Castiel replies.

As soon as Sam is gone, the others break out into excited chatter about what they’re going to order at _The Family Business_. Castiel shakes his head fondly at their predictable behaviour. He is looking forward to another nice cup of that green tea, though. It tasted much better than what their ship produces.

“So, plans for your time off, Captain?” Hannah asks after a few minutes.

Castiel shakes his head. “Nothing in particular. Maybe some maintenance on the ship.”

“Live a little!” Gabriel exclaims. “Listen, we’ll drop Charlie off to see Dorothy, and Hannah to see her sister, and then what do you say you and me head back to Vega?”

Gabriel took Castiel to Vega for his twenty-fifth birthday a few years ago, and has been insisting that they make another trip sometime soon. It had been fun to spend a week on the planet-wide resort, not thinking about passengers or routes or any of his other daily concerns. There had also been several very attractive fellow guests, whom Castiel remembers well and fondly. And while a simple hook-up would be nice, Castiel finds himself wanting more these days. 

“I don’t think so,” Castiel tells his cousin. “Though I’ll happily take you there if that’s what you want to do.”

Gabriel lets out an exaggerated sigh. “Fine.”

“We’re almost there,” Charlie interrupts. “Captain, you may want to alert Ambassador Winchester.”

The door to the bridge opens just as she finishes speaking, revealing the passenger in question. “I was tracking our position,” Sam explains, holding up his communicator. 

“Eager to see your brother?” Hannah asks. At Sam’s nod, she smiles kindly at him. “I’m looking forward to seeing my sister soon as well.” 

The two of them fall into an easy conversation about their families, which Castiel soon tunes out as they approach their destination. 

Charlie expertly steers the _Seraph_ into _The Family Business_ ’ only available docking bay. Castiel lets the others file off the ship before him, then pats her hull fondly as he leaves. She’s done well. 

Since he’s a few steps behind the others, Castiel walks into the room just as Sam is flinging himself enthusiastically into his older brother’s embrace. Dean is wearing a green-and-blue plaid apron over his t-shirt and jeans, and he has a smudge of what appears to be chocolate on one cheek, but more than anything, Castiel notices the look on his face as he holds tightly to his brother. It’s a rather touching scene, Castiel is forced to admit. There’s obviously a great deal of affection between the two of them.

“I’m fine, Dean, I was nowhere near any of the potential conflict zones,” Sam is saying patiently. “Captain Novak and his crew got me back safe, alright?”

Dean looks up and meets Castiel’s eyes, and there’s a tremendous amount of gratitude in his gaze. “Thanks, Captain,” he says simply, no hint of the flirtatiousness that coloured their earlier exchanges.

“It was my pleasure,” Castiel replies, softened by the genuine emotion and honesty Dean is displaying. “Sam was an excellent passenger, and I’m happy to have delivered him back to you.”

“I’m a person, not a package,” Sam protests, but he’s still smiling. 

“Point is, I’m glad you’re back,” Dean tells him. He then turns to address the room at large.

“Listen up, everybody,” Dean shouts. “My brother’s home safe, so next round’s on the house!”

There’s a chorus of cheers and applause from the patrons, Castiel’s crew included. Sam flushes faintly. “Dean, you’re being overly dramatic again.”

“So?” Dean shrugs. “I’m in a good mood. Coffee and treats put people in equally good moods. Come on, Sammy, give us a smile. You’re off the clock, remember?”

Sam does smile then, but it’s more of a devious grin. “Maybe, but you’re not. So you’d better get to work making my order.”

Dean groans, but his eyes are still sparkling. He’s magnetic like this. Castiel can’t stop watching him. 

“Always so demanding,” Dean complains as he returns to his post behind the counter. “Come on, all you new arrivals. Let’s get you settled in with some comfort food, and you can tell me all about your latest adventures.”

“Surely you would appreciate some time alone with your brother,” Castiel whispers to Sam

Sam shakes his head. “Nah, let Dean feed you. It’s how he shows his appreciation. Besides, I think you guys would get along.”

Looking at Dean now, talking to Charlie about some Earth activity they both enjoy-- LARPing?-- as he prepares their drinks, Castiel can believe that. He leans over the counter to get Dean’s attention.

“What can I get for you, Captain?” Dean asks with a smile.

Castiel feels an answering smile spread across his own face. “Another one of those green teas, I think.”

***

Dean can’t seem to stop smiling. Sam’s back after one of their longest periods of time spent apart. And he’s safe and happy and chatting away to the crew of the ship that brought him here, the ship that turns out to be captained by the guy who’s been haunting Dean’s thoughts and a few (okay, a lot) of his dreams lately.

Dean’s sitting at one end of the longest table in the place, with Sam beside him and Captain Novak across from Sam. The rest of the crew are at the other end, talking to some of the regulars, and they seem to know each other from previous visits.

“And you should have seen the way Jess replied to him when he suggested that they should have sent a more experienced ambassador, she was so composed but she laid out every one of her qualifications like they were no big deal, except that they are, really, especially for someone her age…” 

Sam’s been babbling on about this girl for a while now, and Dean’s listening intently, mostly because it’s good to see his brother so happy, but also for future blackmail material.

“Was this the young woman who seemed so disappointed to see you leave?” Captain Novak asks, and though his voice is neutral, Dean thinks he can detect a hint of mischief in his expression.

Sam nearly falls off his chair in his excitement. “Really? You thought that?”

Captain Novak bites his lip, looking like he’s fighting back a laugh. “Oh, certainly,” he says gravely.

“If she’s as smart as you say, what’s she doing getting all mushy over you?” Dean teases.

“That’s what I thought too!” Sam exclaims. “We did talk a lot, though. And she gave me her contact info…” He’s definitely blushing now. Oh yeah, he likes this Jess girl a lot. And good for him. It’s been awhile since Dean’s seen his brother so excited about someone.

“You should reach out to her,” Captain Novak advises.

Dean nods. “Definitely. If Captain Novak thinks you’ve got a shot, well, I’m sure he’s a smart guy, being a captain and all that.”

He can’t even find it in himself to be bitter about their last meeting right now. Novak looks a bit tired, the dark circles under his eyes more pronounced than the last time Dean saw him. Between his clear fatigue and the fact that he contributed to Sam’s presence here, all Dean wants to do is feed him. It’s a curse, really. It’s hard to stay mad at people while also constantly wanting to stuff them full of caffeine and carbohydrates. 

“Castiel,” the man in question corrects him. “Please. I’m not on duty at the moment, and I find I could use a break from the stresses of command.”

“Well, we do specialize in giving people breaks,” Dean tells him. “Castiel it is.” He likes the name. It suits him. 

He also likes the look Castiel gives him, sidelong and curious. “I confess, I didn’t expect to be back here so soon.”

Dean thinks back to their first encounter. “Right. Because you don’t even like coffee.” 

Castiel shrugs helplessly at Sam’s surprised look. “Dude, you’ve probably only had the crap your ship makes, right?”

Castiel frowns. “Yes? I’m not sure why that’s relevant, though.”

Sam looks at Dean with a pleading expression on his face. “You have got to show this guy the good stuff, Dean.”

“We’ll make a believer out of you yet,” Dean tells him, and waves Jo over. “Hey, Jo, can you put on a pot of the special roast?”

Jo looks intrigued. “You got it. Are we celebrating Sam’s return, or something else?”

“Well, there’s that, and also we’re trying to convince this guy,” he gestures to Castiel, “that coffee is delicious.”

Jo winks at them. “Just you wait,” she says.

“What’s so special about this particular coffee?” Castiel inquires.

Dean hesitates for a second, unsure how personal he wants to get. Oh well. They’ve been having a good time so far. Might as well go for it. “It was our mom’s favourite,” he says softly. “She drank a cup of it every morning. We still get it delivered to us up here every month.”

There’s something that looks like pity in Castiel’s eyes. Or maybe sympathy. “It is special, then,” he says. “Perhaps you shouldn’t waste it on a doubter like me.”

“No, you really need to try it,” Jo tells him, carrying three steaming mugs over to them. “Cream? Sugar?” she offers.

Castiel looks slightly overwhelmed, and turns to Dean. “How would you recommend it?”

His hesitance is endearing, like he doesn’t want to offend Dean by drinking it wrong. Dean takes the mug from him and adds just a dash of cream to it. “Try it like that, and you can add sugar if you want,” he advises.

Castiel raises the mug to his lips and takes a tentative sip. He waits a second, then takes another. 

“Well?” Sam prods.

“It’s wonderful,” Castiel answers. “There’s a complexity to the flavour that I’ve never tasted in other blends.” He looks over at Dean and inclines his head in a respectful gesture. “I think I understand, now.”

Dean isn’t sure why that makes him so happy, but it does. He rests his chin on his hands and watches as Castiel savours the rest of his coffee, a look of pure contentment on his face.

“Dean,” Sam says quietly. 

“Yeah?” Dean replies absently. 

He feels Sam kick him under the table, and looks over at his brother with a scowl. Sam has got the biggest grin on his face, and oh, Dean’s been caught. He flushes faintly but holds his brother’s gaze. Castiel’s a good-looking guy, okay? No shame in admiring the view.

Jo wanders back to join them, taking the empty seat beside Castiel. “Hey, Dean, break time’s over. We need more cranberry scones.”

Dean sighs as he gets up. “If you could just learn how to make them properly, we wouldn’t have this problem.”

“That’s not the problem,” Jo replies. “The problem is that you have ridiculously high standards and no one else can make them as well you can. Sucks to be so talented, doesn’t it?”

Sam and Castiel both laugh as Dean flips her off, but he heads back to the kitchen without further protest. She’s right, sadly. Jo makes great beverages, but she’s not much of a baker. Dean and Benny handle that side of things, and Benny’s currently off the clock, so that leaves Dean.

He isn’t surprised when he hears the door swing open barely five minutes later, and Sam comes to join him at the long table where Dean’s busy mixing ingredients for the scones. Sam reaches out to steal a dried cranberry, and Dean smacks his hand away. It’s a scene they’ve played out hundreds of times before. 

“So how long are you gracing us with your presence?” Dean asks. He tries to keep his tone casual, but Sam can probably see right through him.

“Not long,” and yeah, there’s definitely a note of regret in Sam’s voice. “I have to make my reports to the Grand Council tomorrow, so I figure I can spend the night here and somebody will take me to Gemitar in the morning.”

“I’m sure Jo’s already told Ellen and Bobby that you’re here, they’ll show up soon enough, and then be happy to drop you off.” Dean won’t be happy about Sam leaving so quickly, but that’s not the point.

“Yeah, probably,” Sam agrees. “I know it sucks that it’s such a short visit, but hopefully I’ll only be a week or so on Gemitar and then I can come back.”

Dean swallows his disappointment and claps Sam on the back, leaving a big white handprint from the flour he’s been working with. “Sounds good. Bring this Jess girl with you. I’ll make you some heart-shaped cookies, get Jo to work on her latte art…”

“Actually, that might not be a bad idea,” Sam says thoughtfully. “She spent some time on Earth too, she would probably like this place.”

“Who wouldn’t like this place?” Dean corrects him. “Come on, we even got Captain Novak to admit that coffee is a good thing.”

“Oh, wait, are we talking about your crush now?”

“Shut it,” Dean growls. “Or I’m going to make this batch lemon-cranberry and then you won’t get any of them.” Sam’s aversion to lemons is strong, so it’s actually a pretty powerful threat.

Sam pouts at him. “You wouldn’t.”

No, Dean wouldn’t. Not when Sam’s only here for twenty-four hours or so. He’s going to make him all his favourites, because that’s just what he does. 

“What’s the big deal, anyways? Castiel’s cool.”

Dean kneads the dough carefully, not looking at his brother. “He was in here a few weeks back. I got a little flirtatious, and he went all stiff and kinda rude, honestly.”

“Hmn,” Sam says, and this time his big hand closes over a handful of cranberries before Dean can stop him. “Seems fine now. Maybe he was having a bad day.”

Sam’s right. Castiel is more relaxed than he was last time, and he doesn’t seem to have a problem with Dean, but he isn’t exactly giving off any signs that he’s interested, either. Dean doesn’t want to push the issue, for both personal and professional reasons. 

“We’ll see,” he tells Sam, and puts the tray of scones in the oven. 

They have a few minutes before they’re ready, so Dean escorts Sam back out to the main room while they wait. They head for their table, but Castiel and his crew look like they’re preparing to leave.

“Heading out so soon?” Dean asks, doing his best to hide his disappointment. 

“Unfortunately,” Castiel replies, and he does sound like he means it. “We’re officially off duty now, and a few of us have people they’re anxious to be reunited with.”

Dean wonders if he’s talking about himself. Maybe the captain does have someone waiting for him, and that’s why he was so weird last time, and why he’s leaving so quickly now.

“Hannah is going to see her sister, Charlie to see her girlfriend, and Gabriel is going to spend his days in debauchery on Vega,” Castiel continues. 

Dean notes that he doesn’t mention his own plans. Okay, so he’ll have to dig a little. “And what about you?”

Castiel shrugs. “I’ll probably just enjoy the peace and quiet, to be honest.”

Interesting. “Well, if you get bored, or hungry, you know how to find us,” he offers.

Castiel grins at that, and Dean’s breath catches in his throat. He’s got a fantastic smile. “I’ll keep that in mind,” he says. Then he walks away to shake Sam’s hand once more, and Dean definitely doesn’t check out his ass as he walks away. Nope. 

It’s a really great ass. And maybe the guy it belongs to isn’t so bad after all.


	3. Chapter 3

It’s probably a bad idea.

But it’s not like Castiel has any better ones right now.

So once all his crew members have been dropped off at their respective destinations, he turns on his communicator and searches for _The Family Business_. According to the cheerily blinking light that indicates its location on the map of the galaxy, the coffeeship is only about an hour’s journey away from Vega, where Castiel has just waved goodbye to Gabriel.

Castiel stares at the controls of his ship for a few minutes. He has some minor repairs he could do, some books he wants to get back into, but all he can think about right now is seeing Dean again. 

And everyone else is off pursuing their own happiness. Why shouldn’t he do the same? Dean had been friendly, warm, and welcoming, and had even specifically invited Castiel to come back. And his tone when he said it wasn’t that of a business owner hoping for a repeat customer, but that of a person asking to see someone again. Friendly, at the very least. And if it turns out to be something more, well, Castiel certainly wouldn’t complain.

He enters the coordinates decisively and lets the auto-pilot function take over. It’s about time he did something for himself.

Trusting the ship’s systems to get him where he wants to go, Castiel leaves the bridge and heads for his own quarters. This will be the first time he’s going to _The Family Business_ by himself, without his crew or a mission to hide behind. He needs to look his best.

He peels off his grey uniform and leaves it crumpled on the floor of his bedroom, then steps into the attached bathroom. His ship was built as a home, so its amenities are on the luxurious side. He climbs into the shower and turns the water on, relishing in the heat and the pressure as it pours over him.

As he washes his hair, his thoughts drift back to Dean. Is he reading too much into their interactions? Will he be let down? But then he remembers the way Dean looked at him the first time they met, the sound of his voice when he called Castiel _Captain_...

Castiel groans and slowly trails one hand down his chest, lingering over his nipple on the way. He should have known where that train of thought would lead. But he’s on vacation, and he has the ship to himself. What better time for a little indulgence?

There’s a small window in the side of the shower, giving its occupant a view of the sky outside. Castiel tips his head back and watches the stars go by as he wraps one hand around himself, slowly stroking his cock as he thinks about what it would feel like to have Dean touch him like this. He hadn’t noticed his hands, too distracted by all his other features, but he’s sure that they’re broad and capable like the rest of him. Definitely strong, since he works with them so much as a baker. 

He imagines Dean standing behind him, their bodies pressed tightly together. Imagines him chuckling as he watches Castiel squirm against him. He’s fairly certain Dean would be a generous, experienced lover, well-aware of how to reduce his partner to breathlessness. 

He wonders what kind of noises Dean would make if Castiel touched him like this. How those plush lips of his would part on a drawn-out sigh. How his freckled cheeks would flush with arousal.

Castiel speeds up his movements, his heartbeat increasing in time with his hands. It feels so good. He’s getting close already.

“Dean,” he murmurs, his voice ragged. It echoes strangely off the walls of the shower, but there’s one else onboard to overhear him. “Just like that.”

The water is warm and wet, and suddenly, Castiel wonders how it would compare to the feeling of Dean’s mouth around his cock, how Dean would look on his knees in front of him, and that thought is what pushes him over the edge. He moans loudly, his knees nearly giving out as he comes.

He lets his heart rate come down, exhaling shakily. He finishes his shower in a bit of a daze, but feeling more relaxed than he has in weeks. Apparently, he needed that.

Wrapping a towel around his waist, he returns to his bedroom and surveys his meager collection of casual wear. He spends nearly all his time in uniform, so there’s never been any real reason to acquire large amounts of other clothing. He picks up a few shirts, then discards them. From what he knows of coffee shops on Earth, they’re casual places. 

He eventually settles on a soft white t-shirt, his one pair of dark jeans, and a black jacket that he’s had for years and almost never worn. He examines himself in his mirror critically. He thinks he looks pretty good, and more importantly, not like he’s trying too hard. 

Satisfied with his appearance, he returns to the bridge. They’ll arrive at their destination in a few minutes, the computer informs him. Good. Castiel is impatient, anticipation thrumming through his veins. He’s had two very different interactions with Dean, and he still isn’t quite sure what to make of him. All he knows is that he wants to know more.

The computer beeps at him, indicating that they’ve arrived. Castiel takes over the controls, guiding his ship into the docking bay. He notes that it isn’t as busy as it has been on his previous visits, and is grateful-- perhaps Dean will have more time to spend talking to him if he doesn’t have many other customers.

He walks briskly down the passage leading into the cafe proper, his excitement lending him speed. No matter what happens, he’ll be proud of himself for taking this chance. 

He doesn’t immediately see Dean when he enters the room, which, as he guessed, is quieter than he’s seen it before. Jo is at the counter, though, so he makes his way over and waits politely for her to notice him.

“Oh, hi!” she says when she looks up. “Back so soon?”

Castiel shrugs. “I have some time off, and you weren’t too far away,” he explains.

“What can I get for you?” Jo asks. “Green tea?”

He’s impressed by her ability to remember orders. “Not today,” he says. “I find myself craving chocolate.”

She nods understandingly. “We’ve all been there. Hot chocolate, then?”

“Sounds perfect,” Castiel says. “Is Dean here?” There isn’t really a subtle way of asking, and besides, Jo seems pretty smart. He’s certain that even if he had tried to be less obvious, she would have figured him out.

As expected, she raises an eyebrow at him, but she seems more intrigued than surprised. “Yeah, he’s in the back. Why don’t you get settled in and once your drink is ready, I’ll let him know that you’re here?”

“I appreciate that.”

Jo winks at him, and within minutes, Castiel is sitting down in one of the plush armchairs in the corner with a steaming mug of hot chocolate that smells absolutely heavenly. Conveniently, there’s another chair sitting empty right beside him. Just waiting for someone to occupy it.

A few minutes later, Castiel hears the sound of someone clearing their throat, and looks up to see Dean standing in front of him. His eyes widen as he looks at Castiel, and at first, Castiel can’t figure out why. Surely Jo told him he was here, so why would he be surprised to see him?

And then Castiel catches Dean looking not at his face, but at his body, and it makes a bit more sense. He chose the right outfit, apparently. “Hello, Dean,” he says. 

“Hey, Cas,” Dean replies, his eyes finally coming back to meet Castiel’s. “When I said you knew how to find us, I gotta admit, I wasn’t expecting you so soon.”

It’s been a day and a half since Castiel was here. He supposes that is a rather quick turnaround, but can’t bring himself to care. “Well, I quite enjoyed my last visit,” he says. “And I had nothing else planned.”

Dean laughs and lowers himself into the chair beside Castiel. “Nice to know we’re your back-up plan when there’s nothing else to do.”

“That’s not quite the way I would frame it,” Castiel protests, but he’s delighted with the tone of their conversation so far. Friendly, bordering on flirtatious, but genuine. It gives him hope. 

“Rest of the crew ran off and left you all by your lonesome, huh,” Dean says.

“Essentially.”

Dean nods at the mug in Castiel’s hands. “Nothing better than hot chocolate for days like that.”

“It’s delicious,” Castiel agrees. “I hope I’m not keeping you from your duties, though.” He wants to give Dean an out, just to see what he does with it.

And Dean just grins and shakes his head, settling himself more comfortably in his chair. “Nah,” he says easily. “Once the stuff’s in the oven, Jo can handle taking it out. I just don’t let her get it to that point.”

“Perks of being the boss, hmn,” Castiel teases.

Dean gives him a sidelong look. “You’d know a thing or two about that, _Captain_ ,” he replies.

Castiel nearly chokes on his hot chocolate, hearing Dean say that word again. There’s a mischievous expression on Dean’s face that indicates he has some idea of its effect on Castiel. Oh, this is going to be fun.

“I suppose there are certain advantages,” he says thoughtfully. “Bigger living quarters, for one thing.”

Dean’s eyes widen, and Castiel is certain he’s imagining those quarters right now. Imaging Castiel’s bedroom. Maybe even imagining the two of them there. He fights back a triumphant grin. 

“Ability to leave all responsibilities to somebody else when a really good looking guy shows up unexpectedly…” Dean continues, his eyes never leaving Castiel’s face.

And there it is. The confirmation that Castiel has been waiting for. “And what, once divested of those responsibilities, would the boss do with all his extra time?”

Dean swallows, perhaps a little nervous, but presses on. “Take the really good looking guy out for a spin among the stars?”

“As long as you’re driving,” Castiel says. “I’m on vacation.”

Dean throws his head back and laughs at that. “Oh, yeah,” he says. “Nobody flies my Baby except for me.”

He stands up and extends a hand to Castiel, who takes it gladly. “Let me bring my mug back first,” he says, and dutifully places it in the bin marked “dirty dishes.”

Dean watches him with a pleased look on his face. “So polite,” he says.

“I try,” Castiel shrugs. “Now, what’s this about your baby?” He’s quite attached to his own ship, of course, but even he’s never given it a nickname like that.

Dean leads him through a small door to the left of the counter, waving at Jo as they pass by. She rolls her eyes at him, but gives Castiel a subtle thumbs-up, which he returns. He thinks it’s sweet that she’s obviously supportive of Dean. 

“This ship is both work and home,” Dean explains, leading Castiel through a passage similar to the ones that join the docking bays to the main part of the ship. “But for pleasure…” He enters a code into the locking mechanism beside a door, and it opens smoothly.

Castiel follows him into a small, covered area, where another ship is parked. It’s a cruiser, meant for short trips rather than long-range journeys. And it’s _beautiful_. 

He lets out a low whistle. “Impressive,” he says. 

“Right?” Dean grins at him. “So, Cas, what do you say?”

Castiel grins back and approaches the ship. “Aren’t you going to open my door for me?”

***

Dean kinda can’t believe this is happening. He’s got Captain Novak in his passenger seat, and they’re taking his baby out for a spin among the stars following one of the weirdest, most flirtatious conversations Dean has ever had.

Honestly, he’s pretty okay with the way it turned out.

Castiel has been quiet so far, admiring the inside of Dean’s ship and watching as they head away from _The Family Business_ and into the open sky.

“Can I ask you something?” Dean blurts out.

“Of course,” Castiel says, turning his attention back to Dean. 

“Umn.” Dean hesitates. “Not that I’m not thrilled that you’re here. But I am a bit surprised, I guess. I kinda thought you didn’t like me.”

Castiel coughs, and there’s a faint flush on his cheeks, visible even in the low light. “Well, maybe not at first,” he says carefully.

So Dean was right. “Why? Or what changed?”

And now Castiel just looks vaguely uncomfortable. “I thought you were being overly friendly. Flirting with me to secure a repeat customer, not because you were actually interested.”

Huh. That wasn’t one of the reasons Dean had come up with for Cas’ behaviour during their first encounter, but he supposes it makes sense. Sort of. Not really. “Dude, have you seen you? Of course I was actually interested. Still am, obviously.”

Castiel bites his lip in a very distracting manner. Dean tries to focus on what he’s saying, but it’s hard. “I know that now,” he protests. “It just caught me off-guard, I suppose. I’m not accustomed to mixing my personal and professional lives, and I was definitely still in professional mode at the time…”

Okay, now that makes sense. Dean nods understandingly. “So you assumed that I was as well. Fair enough. Kinda offended that you think I need to flirt with people to get them to come back, though.”

Castiel chuckles at that. “Now that I’ve had the chance to sample several of your products, I believe that.”

Dean feels a lot better about this whole situation now that he knows how Castiel came to be here with him. It relaxes him, smoothing out the nervous edge to his excitement. “So when you come back to the ship from now on, how will I know if it’s because of me or because of my delicious beverages and baked goods?”

“Who says it can’t be both?” Castiel counters.

Dean can live with that. “You’re gonna have to tell me your favourite things, then, so I can make ‘em just for you.”

“That’s very kind of you,” Castiel replies. “Right now, though, I’d rather you tell me more about this gorgeous ship you’re flying us around in.”

“Oh, buddy, you don’t know what you just started. I can talk about her for hours,” Dean warns.

“I’m on vacation,” Castiel reminds him, and settles himself more comfortably in his seat. “You can learn a lot about a person from the way they talk about their ship, I’ve noticed.”

Where to begin. At the beginning, Dean supposes. “She belonged to my dad,” he explains. “Sam and I were born on Earth, but after our mom died, Dad came up here, and he used to bring us with him sometimes.”

“Your brother told me a bit of this,” Castiel says, looking thoughtful. “I wouldn’t have guessed this was the ship, though.”

“Not very big, I know,” Dean says with a bitter laugh. “Not exactly the kind of place to have kids growing up. But Dad didn’t know what he was doing with us, and he couldn’t seem to make up his mind as to whether it was better for us to be with him or to be on Earth with our family friends, so we ended up doing a lot of back and forth.”

“I would have hated that,” Castiel says. 

“Yeah? Did you have a nice, settled childhood?” Dean asks.

Castiel shrugs. “I suppose you could say that. I was born on the _Seraph_ , I’ve lived on it for basically my entire life.”

Dean whistles. “Wow. And you never wanted anything else?”

“Not really,” Castiel says after a long pause. “I love what we do. I think it’s important work. And the ship is my home. It’s always been enough. It’s a way of honouring my parents, and staying close to them.”

From this, Dean surmises that Castiel’s parents have passed away. Something they have in common, then. He tentatively reaches across the seats and squeezes Castiel’s hand lightly, for comfort. “How long have they been gone?” he asks gently.

Castiel stares out the window as he answers. “Five years,” he says, his voice soft. “There was an accident involving one of their passengers. They were caught up in it, and we lost them both.”

That’s horrible. Dean can’t imagine losing both parents all at once. “I’m sorry, Cas,” he says, knowing it isn’t enough.

“Thank you,” Castiel says. “I know it isn’t the most exciting topic of conversation, but…”

“Well, our ships have history, I guess,” Dean says. “And so do we. That’s not a bad thing.”

“Not a bad thing at all,” Castiel agrees with a small smile. He keeps his hand in Dean’s. “But maybe we can save the deep exploration of the psychological effects of losing our parents for the second date.”

It must be going okay, conversation about dead parents notwithstanding, if Cas is referencing another date already. “Sounds like a plan.”

Unfortunately, this effectively kills the conversation. Dean racks his brain for another topic, but Castiel doesn’t look too bothered, watching out the window with interest. “Are we going anywhere in particular?” he asks.

“Not really,” Dean says. “Why, is there somewhere you wanna go?” 

He’s willing. He’ll go anywhere if it keeps Castiel sitting beside him. Especially in that outfit. Dean keeps sneaking glances at him, admiring the strong lines of his profile and the way his jacket emphasizes the breadth of his shoulders. 

“Not at all,” Castiel assures him. “I like this aimless wandering. I never fly this way. We always have a destination, a mission, a carefully planned route. I find this very relaxing.”

He does look relaxed. It’s a good look for him, Dean decides, and commits to making it his personal goal to keep Castiel this way as long as possible. “You’re on vacation, right? So no tight schedule we have to keep in mind?”

“None at all.”

“Well, I do have to be back at the cafe eventually, but we’ve still got time,” Dean says with a grin. 

Castiel answers it with one of his own. “Tell me more about the cafe,” he suggests. 

“Well, you already know how Sam and I grew up partially out here, partially on Earth. Spent a lot of time in little coffee shops when we were on Earth. For the price of a cup of coffee, it was somewhere to hang out, for Sam to do schoolwork, whatever. I got to watching the way people ran them, how much of a little difference they could make in people’s lives every single day, and…” Dean laughs, thinking back on his decision to start his business. “I wanted to do that.”

“But not on Earth,” Castiel comments.

Dean shakes his head. “No. After our dad died, Sam was set on doing his goodie-goodie stuff up here, and there was no way I was letting him be that far away from me. So my dad’s friend Bobby sold me the ship, and helped me rebuild it to the way it is now. Took a lot of work, but it was all worth it in the end.”

“I think so too. Though I did have my doubts before my first visit.”

Faux-offended, Dean finally snatches his hand back from Castiel’s. “I’m going to have to keep convincing you, aren’t I.”

“Yes,” Castiel says firmly. “With pastries. And tea. And anything else you think might sway me.”

But he reaches out and takes hold of Dean’s hand again as he says it, and Dean’s totally blushing now. This guy. This weird, confusing, absurdly attractive guy. 

“You can be our new taste-tester,” he says. “Since you’ve got all this free time anyways.”

And yeah, maybe that’s a little much, basically asking Cas to spend his entire vacation hanging out with Dean in his cafe, in his kitchen… _in his bed_ , a little voice in the back of his mind adds. 

“Mmnnn,” Cas says appreciatively. “I think I would like that.”

Okay then. Maybe it’s not too much. Maybe it’s just enough.

“You don’t, uh, have anyone else you want to spend time with?” As soon as the words leave Dean’s mouth, he winces, realizing how insensitive it might be. 

But Castiel doesn’t look upset by it. He just shakes his head. “No, my only close relationships are with my crew, and they’re all otherwise occupied.”

“I get that,” Dean offers. “The crew thing. I don’t know what I’d do without Jo and Benny.”

“I don’t believe I’ve met Benny yet,” Castiel comments. 

“If you’re going to spend any amount of time in our kitchens, you’ll meet him soon enough,” Dean says wryly. He wonders what Benny will make of Castiel. He’ll tease Dean relentlessly, that’s for sure. 

Castiel looks over at him slyly. “Is he a better baker than you? Maybe I should pursue him instead.”

Oh, hell no. Dean is well aware that Castiel is joking, but that statement makes his jealous side rear its ugly head. “He’s a good baker,” he admits. “But I’m much better-looking. You made the right choice.”

“Hmn,” Castiel murmurs. “I may need further convincing.”

“Yeah, well, this ship doesn’t have an oven on it, so you’ll just have to wait…” Dean says, but trails off at the look of fond exasperation on Castiel’s face, the way his hand is slowly moving up Dean’s arm to rest on his shoulder. “Oh.”

Castiel rolls his eyes and leans across the space between their seats. Dean meets him halfway, and then they’re kissing, and no single cliché expression Dean has ever heard can compare to how good it feels. 

He manages to put Baby in neutral so they’re just hovering in the open sky and he can concentrate on Cas rather than flying, then slides his hand into Cas’ gloriously messy hair as he deepens their kiss. Cas lets out a moan and presses in closer. His lips are soft against Dean’s, his hand still entwined with Dean’s free hand. 

This feels right. Dean draws back for a second to catch his breath, and Castiel looks back at him steadily. “Wow,” Dean says weakly. He knows it’s not the smoothest thing to say, but he can’t bring himself to care. 

“Mmn-hmn,” Cas agrees. He kisses Dean again, softly this time. Just a brief brush of his lips, then he pulls back. The light from the stars outside the window makes him look like he’s glowing. Dean can’t look away.

Fortunately, Castiel seems just as entranced. He lightly traces the line of Dean’s cheekbone with one fingertip, his touch whisper-soft. “Best vacation ever,” he declares.

Dean’s happiness bubbles up in his chest, spilling out in the form of laughter. He grabs Castiel’s hand and presses a kiss to his palm. “Hate to break it to you, but we’d better be heading back. I’ve still got a business to run, sadly.”

Castiel sighs, but shifts back into his own seat. Dean feels the loss of contact keenly. 

“Alright, then,” Castiel says. “Take me to your kitchen.”

Dean throws him a cocky grin and turns the ship around. “You got it, Captain.”


	4. Chapter 4

When Castiel decides to do something, he commits to it entirely. It’s one of the characteristics that makes him such a good captain: he considers his decisions carefully, and then follows through fully. 

And once he decided to spend his vacation days with Dean, well, he shed the careful control of his professional demeanour and just let himself _be_ in a way he hasn’t done in years. It’s not that he keeps this side of himself entirely hidden, more that he only lets it out under certain circumstances, or around certain people. 

Dean has wormed himself into that category with somewhat frightening speed. But Castiel just feels comfortable around him. He doesn’t have to worry that his behaviour will undermine his legitimacy as a superior officer, because he and Dean are equals. 

Though based on the way Dean is currently ordering him around the kitchen, that isn’t always going to be the case.

“Hey, can you get the eggs out of the fridge for me?” Dean calls out. “My hands are covered in dough.”

They’re working their way through some of the cafe’s most popular recipes, trying to determine Castiel’s preferences so Dean can invent something new just for him. It’s silly and sweet and probably the most romantic thing anyone has ever done for him.

“How do you handle this on your own, then?” Castiel asks suspiciously. 

Dean grins cheekily at him. “I do it myself and wipe everything down after. But I want to watch you bend down when you get them. I bet your ass’ll look great.”

Castiel blushes, but arches an eyebrow at Dean in challenge and saunters over the fridge. He slowly turns so that his back is to Dean and leans forward as he opens the fridge door and removes the eggs. Just before he straightens back up, he wiggles his hips, making his butt sway from side to side.

He expects to hear Dean laugh, or make another sly comment, but when he turns around, Dean’s just standing there with a shell-shocked expression. “What?” Castiel asks defensively.

“I didn’t think you would actually do it!” Dean protests. 

Castiel rolls his eyes and brings Dean the eggs. He places them on the counter and leans up to press a kiss to Dean’s cheek, right below the smudge of flour that always seems to end up there when they’re baking. “Are you complaining?”

“Hell no,” Dean says vehemently. “View like that? Best thing this kitchen has ever seen.”

“What, like you haven’t gotten frisky on one of these tables?” Castiel jokes, indicating the long stainless steel surface they’re working at. It would be rather convenient…

Dean takes his glib statement seriously, though. “No,” he says. “I’ve never hooked up with anyone back here. I hardly let anyone back here when I’m working. You heard Jo the other day, I’m pretty particular.”

That warms Castiel’s heart in a way even Dean’s clear appreciation of his physical attributes didn’t. He doesn’t quite know how to respond.

It’s Dean’s turn to roll his eyes. “Yes, that makes you special. Like you didn’t already know that.”

“It’s nice to be reminded,” Castiel manages to say after a brief pause. His voice must be a bit strained, though, because Dean gives him a weird look.

“Shit, was that too much?” Dean frowns at him. “I know I can be a bit intense sometimes, and you already kinda thought I was overdoing it when we first met, but I swear, Cas…”

He doesn’t like note of self-doubt in Dean’s voice, so Castiel kisses him to shut him up, and he doesn’t even care when he feels Dean’s arms wrap around his waist, his hands still covered in dough. Dean relaxes into it, warm and soft where he presses against Castiel. He smells like flour and cinnamon and just the faintest hint of coffee. It’s intoxicating.

Castiel reaches back to brace himself against the table, deepening their kiss, but he misjudges the distance and accidentally knocks the carton of eggs onto the ground. The noise startles them into springing apart, and they stare at each other for a split second before bursting into laughter.

“Not such a great place for getting frisky after all,” Dean says, grabbing some rags to clean up the mess. Castiel stoops and gathers up the broken pieces of shell, then tosses them into the garbage. 

“Apparently not,” he agrees. “Maybe we should stick with the original plan.”

“Right,” Dean nods. “So. Almond croissants. I think you’ll like the nuttiness, and the flaky pastry, since you also liked the turnovers.”

He starts rolling out the dough, and Castiel settles in to watch. Dean hums to himself as he works, some song that Castiel doesn’t know. It’s pleasant, whatever it is. Dean is clearly in his element here, and it’s a beautiful thing to behold.

“What’s your favourite thing to make?” he asks after a few minutes of comfortable silence. “Not necessarily your favourite to eat, just to make.”

Dean purses his lips as he considers the question. “Pie, probably. And yes, it happens to be my favourite to eat as well, but that’s not the point.”

“What is?” Castiel prods gently.

Dean’s eyes turn a bit sad. “I remember my mom making apple pie, and giving me the leftover apples to eat,” he says quietly. “It’s dumb, I know, but it makes me feel closer to her.”

“It’s not dumb,” Castiel assures him. “I can tell that your mother made a strong impression on you, even though you lost her so early. She must have been wonderful.”

“Yeah,” Dean agrees, then shakes his head like he’s clearing away his thoughts. “And here we are talking about dead parents again. I thought we agreed to leave that for later.”

“Apparently we can’t avoid it,” Castiel sighs. 

“Sure we can!” Dean takes the tray of croissants over to the oven and slides it in, then turns back to Castiel. “How about you tell me more about your crew, for example.”

Castiel brightens at the thought of them. He’s been enjoying his time away from the stress of command, but he does miss his friends. “They’re the best crew I could ever ask for,” he declares.

“I was hoping for less of a performance review and more of a character study, but okay,” Dean teases.

Castiel swats at him, but Dean just grabs his hand and tugs him closer. Castiel goes willingly, standing beside Dean and playfully bumping his hip against him.

“So, who’s been with you the longest?” Dean asks, fiddling with the strings of the apron tied around his waist. He’d tried to convince Castiel to wear one as well, but Castiel refused. Dean was the one doing the real work, anyways.

“Hannah,” he answers. “She joined the crew even before my parents passed away.” And there he goes, talking about dead parents again. “When I became captain, I promoted her to first officer. We’ve always worked well together.”

“And Gabriel’s your cousin, right? How did he end up flying with you?”

Castiel smiles at the memory. “It was just supposed to be a visit. But he liked the ship, and we soon found he had a knack for it. He likes meeting new people, and he can be very charming, so some of our passengers find him pleasant to be around. Others, not so much.”

“And Charlie? I’m pretty sure I’ve seen her around here before, but not with you.”

“She’s our newest recruit,” Castiel explains. “Only with us for about a year now. Before that, Cain flew the ship. He’d been with us since my parents’ time, but he wanted to retire, settle down somewhere. Charlie applied for the job, and she made herself invaluable immediately.”

“It’s rare to find people like that,” Dean says. “Looks like we’ve both been pretty lucky in that respect.”

“I wouldn’t be able to do this without them,” Castiel admits. “I wouldn’t want to do this without them. It’s strange being away from them for this long.”

By mutual agreement, he and Dean haven’t been spending every hour of the day together. As strong as their connection is, this thing between them is still in its early stages. So Castiel has left the _Seraph_ parked where she is, and he still spends his nights there. He also takes time during the day to do some of the repairs and maintenance work he originally planned to fill this time with.

They only have the rest of this day together, though. Then Castiel has to fly out and retrieve his crew before heading to Elodion to pick up a passenger who has hired them for a week’s worth of travel. 

“You’ll see them soon.” Dean drops a kiss to the top of Castiel’s head and goes to check on the croissants. 

“Yes,” Castiel says softly. And then he’ll find himself missing Dean instead. 

Which is ridiculous. They barely know each other. Castiel didn’t even like him the first time they met, attractive as he found him. How is it possible that he’s already thinking ahead to the next time they’ll be able to see each other? Trying to determine just how long they’ll have to be apart?

“You okay?” Dean’s voice interrupts his thoughts, and Castiel summons a smile, trying to cover up his confusion.

“Yes, just thinking,” he lies.

Dean looks at him for a moment, then shakes his head. “Yeah, not buying that.”

“I’m fine,” Castiel insists. And he means it. He is fine. Or he will be. He has to be.

“Okay,” Dean tells him, and hands him a fresh croissant, warm and fragrant. “You don’t want to talk about it. I get it. But you know that you can, right?”

“Yes.” That’s all Castiel needs to say, apparently, because Dean relaxes immediately.

“Good. Now tell me what you think of that croissant.”

***

It’s been weird, having Cas around these past few days. Dean isn’t used to spending so much time with a person he’s pursuing, but Cas is different. Maybe it’s their circumstances, knowing that they’ll likely be separated again before long, but Dean just doesn’t want to waste any time with him.

Mostly Dean bakes things and Cas eats them. There’s a fair bit of talking and getting to know each other in between. Sometimes a bit of kissing. But it hasn’t gone any farther than that. Every night, Cas gives Dean a sweet kiss and heads back to his own ship. And Dean goes back to his quarters and spends the night alone.

Cas is leaving tomorrow, though. For at least a week. And yeah, it sucks. Dean is going to miss him. But at least he can spend the time tinkering with the recipe he’s dreamed up, the perfect pastry for his hot space captain. 

God, he’s such a sucker for that dark hair and those blue eyes. That serious gaze, that deep rumble of a voice that can turn silky and smooth with the slightest provocation. 

“Hey, chief, I think your muffins are ready,” Benny calls out from the other side of the kitchen.

Dean curses and grabs his oven mitts, managing to rescue the tray of carrot-pineapple muffins before they burn. “Thanks, Benny.”

“Daydreaming again?” Benny teases. He leans against the long table, arms crossed over his chest, grinning at Dean.

Dean contemplates throwing something at him, but decides against it. No sense wasting good ingredients. “Yeah, well, if you had someone as good-looking as Cas hanging around, you’d be daydreaming too.”

“You’re not wrong,” Benny drawls. “But you got a reputation to maintain here. If you start serving sub-par goods, well, you won’t have a place for that boy of yours to hang around at all.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Dean mutters, arranging his muffins on a tray to take out to the front. “Good thing I have you to watch my back, huh?”

“You bet,” Benny replies, and though they’ve been kidding around, Dean picks up on the note of seriousness in his friend’s voice. He appreciates it more than he can properly express, so he just shoves one of the muffins at Benny and heads out with the rest.

He hums to himself as he slides out an empty tray and replaces it with the fresh one. At the far end of the counter, Jo is chatting with a dark-haired woman Dean doesn’t recognize. She’s a bit older than Jo, but definitely attractive, and judging by the way Jo is leaning over the counter, she thinks so as well.

Dean sidles over, pretending to polish the espresso machine, but really he’s shamelessly eavesdropping on their conversation.

“You’ve got rough hands for such a little thing,” the dark-haired woman says, her voice husky and amused. She’s examining Jo’s palm with interest, and Dean is probably being really obvious now, but he doesn’t care. Jo’s like a little sister to him, which means he feels both a duty to protect her and a duty to obtain as much blackmail material as possible.

Jo shrugs. “Could be all the lattes I make.” Her smile is sharp. “Or it could be all the knives I throw around as a hobby.”

The other woman just laughs. “Pamela,” she offers. “And I like what I see in your hands.”

Jo gives her own name, and lets her hand linger in Pamela’s before pulling away. Oh, she’s definitely interested. 

Dean clears his throat loudly, and she turns to face him. “Oh, hey, Dean,” she says. She sounds cool and collected, but there’s a flush in her cheeks that Dean’s pretty sure isn’t just from the warmth of the room.

“Hey,” Dean says. “Why don’t you go on ahead and finish up for the day. I’ve got the counter.”

Jo looks at him suspiciously, so he nods in Pamela’s direction, making it clear why he’s offering her an out. Jo’s eyes widen, but she mouths a silent _thank you_ before pulling off her apron and joining Pamela on the other side of the counter.

Dean watches her go, and the look of pleased surprise on Pamela’s face as Jo accompanies her to a table makes him smile. Good for them. Jo’s given a lot to this place, and she works almost as hard as Dean does. He doesn’t think she’s looking for anything serious, but Pamela looks like she could show her a pretty good time.

He keeps himself busy for another few hours, chatting to customers and making drinks. Jo and Pamela disappeared a while back, so it’s just been him handling things out here while Benny keeps the ovens going in the back. Dean doesn’t mind, though. In some ways, he’s been neglecting this role over the last few days, and he’s missed it.

He’s got his back to the counter, slicing up lemon loaf, when he hears a low whistle from behind him. He turns around, already grinning, to see Cas on the other side. “Hey, babe,” he says easily, then freezes. It just felt so natural to use that word. He peers at Cas through his eyelashes, hoping the other man won’t recoil from his use of such a casual endearment, but Cas just smiles at him, crinkles forming at the corners of his eyes.

“Hello, Dean,” Cas says, and Dean practically melts. “How is your day going so far?”

“Better now that you’re here,” Dean replies. “But no, it’s been nice. Can I get you anything?”

“Surprise me.” Castiel winks at him and strides away, taking up residence in one of the plush armchairs in the centre of the room. He has a book with him, which he promptly opens, and Dean takes a second to appreciate how good he looks sitting there. Then he shakes off his (admittedly dirty) thoughts and gets to work.

He settles on a cinnamon spice latte, remembering how much Cas enjoyed the batch of snickerdoodles he made the day before. He gets another customer before he can start Cas’ drink, though, so by the time it’s ready, it’s been a few minutes since Cas sat down.

And he’s not alone anymore.

Dean frowns, hesitating behind the counter. He doesn’t want to interrupt, but he doesn’t want Cas’ drink to get cold either. So he makes his way over, examining Cas’ companion on the way.

He’s a bit older, lean and sandy-haired, and he’s talking to Cas like they’re old friends. Cas’ body language is relaxed and comfortable, and he’s leaning towards the other man, listening intently as he talks.

Dean clears his throat as he comes to stand beside Cas. “Hey,” he says awkwardly, placing the mug on the table in front of him.

“Oh, thank you, Dean,” Castiel says, looking up at him. He looks pretty happy.

“I’ll just, uh,” Dean points back to the counter. “Leave you guys alone.”

“Nonsense,” the other man interrupts, eyeing Dean with clear interest. Exactly what kind of interest, Dean isn’t sure. “I’m Balthazar. Old friend of Cassie’s, here. And you must be Dean.”

Has Cas told his friends about him? He glances at Castiel, whose cheeks are tinged with pink as he takes a sip of his latte.

“That’s me,” Dean says. “Funny, Cas has never mentioned you to me.” It’s petty, he knows, but he gets a slight sense of satisfaction from the surprise on Balthazar’s face.

Castiel almost chokes on his drink. “Dean,” he mutters under his breath. “Be nice.”

Feeling childish and off-kilter, Dean crosses his arms across his chest and glowers at Balthazar, who seems oddly amused by the conversation. “My my, aren’t you a jealous one?” he says lightly. “Don’t worry, darling, it’s never been that way between Cas and I. Not for lack of trying on my part, mind you.”

And now Castiel turns his glare on his friend. “Balthazar,” he complains. “Did you really have to bring that up? Now?”

“I came here for coffee, ran into you, and then the subject of all those delightfully rapturous messages you’ve been sending me over the past few days turns up.” Balthazar’s way too excited about this, Dean thinks. “How could I not meddle, at least a little bit?”

“Quite easily, really,” Castiel snaps. He looks pretty agitated now, and Dean regrets getting defensive so quickly.

“It’s cool, Cas,” he says, laying a soothing hand on the other man’s shoulder. “I think we may want to start over, though, huh?”

He looks at Balthazar as he speaks, daring him to say otherwise. But Balthazar just inclines his head in what Dean thinks might be a gesture of respect, and holds out his hand for Dean to shake.

Was that some kind of weird test? Balthazar did say he and Cas had been friends a long time. Either way, Dean figures, it doesn’t hurt to be more polite from here on out. For Cas’ sake, if nothing else.

“Balthazar was a member of the crew when my parents were in charge,” Castiel explains, glancing back and forth between the two of them like he expects them to start fighting again at any minute. “But he has since moved on to other ventures.”

“Luxury travel,” Balthazar says with a wave of his hand. “It’s more my style.”

Dean doesn’t doubt it. “But you and Cas kept in touch?” He makes sure to keep his voice friendly. Curious, rather than accusatory. 

“Yes,” Castiel answers. “Our paths cross occasionally. The galaxy is only so big, after all. But we haven’t seen each other in person in some time.”

That sucks. “Alright, well, I’m gonna let you guys catch up, then,” he says. “Balthazar. Nice to meet you. Hope to see you around again.”

“Oh, I’m sure you will,” Balthazar replies with a wink that borders on lecherous. Is he seriously trying to hit on Dean now? 

Dean grimaces and gives Castiel’s shoulder a quick squeeze. “See ya,” he murmurs.

“You don’t have to go,” Castiel protests. “We can all talk together.”

“Somebody’s gotta watch the counter,” Dean tells him. It’s true. He does have customers to tend to. But he also wants to give Castiel a chance to catch up with his friend. He’s monopolized enough of his time as it stands.

Fortunately, there’s a steady stream of customers to keep Dean busy while Castiel and Balthazar chat. He distracts himself making drinks and serving snacks, doing what he does best. 

It’s at least an hour before Balthazar stands, kisses Castiel on the cheek, and heads for the exit. He offers Dean a lazy salute as he leaves, which Dean acknowledges with a nod and a slightly-forced smile. He’s still not sure how he feels about the guy, but he’s a friend of Castiel’s, and a paying customer, so he’ll play nice. 

Castiel wanders up a few minutes later. “Hey,” Dean greets him. “Sorry, man, I’ve got like another hour before Benny takes over.”

“That’s fine,” Castiel replies, and there’s something in his voice that Dean can’t quite identify. “I’ll head back to the _Seraph_ now, I think. Why don’t you come find me when you’re done?”

That’s new. Dean has never been on board Castiel’s ship. And Cas has never been in any of the private areas of his, other than the kitchen. 

“Sounds good,” Dean replies, holding Cas’ gaze steadily. There’s a light behind those blue eyes that makes a soft shiver run down Dean’s spine. He’s fairly confident that it’s both an invitation and a promise.

“See you soon,” Castiel murmurs, then turns to leave. Dean watches him walk away, still a little bit stunned.

And now he has one unbearable hour to wait, wondering what exactly Castiel has planned for him.

It passes in a blur of cappuccinos and drip coffees and herbal tea. One customer at a time, the minutes slowly tick away. Then, just as Dean is drizzling caramel syrup over the last customer’s order, he hears Benny’s voice from behind him.

“Time’s up, chief,” he says. “Get out of here.”

Dean sighs in relief and passes the latte to the young women who ordered it. She gives him a shy smile, and he winks back at her, amused at how she blushes and scurries back to her friends.

“Man am I glad to see you,” he tells Benny.

“Rough day?” his friend asks, raising an inquisitive eyebrow.

“Nah,” Dean admits. “Just eager to be out of here.”

Understanding dawns on Benny’s face. “Oh, I see what’s happening here. It’s that boy of yours. Go get him, Dean.”

“I think I will,” Dean says with more confidence than he feels. He waves goodbye to Benny and heads down the corridor to where Castiel’s ship is parked. He debates stopping by his own quarters to freshen up, but decides against it. He doesn’t want to delay seeing Cas any longer than necessary.

He knows which bay the _Seraph_ is parked in. She’s been there for a week now. It doesn’t take him long to get there, his anticipation speeding his pace. 

The door to the ship has been left open. It’s a risky move-- anyone could stroll down this passage on a whim and find the ship vulnerable. But it’s also a clear indication that Castiel trusts Dean and the establishment that he runs. He doesn’t think he’s in danger here.

“Cas?” Dean calls out as he steps onto the ship. He looks around curiously as he does, taking in the sight of Castiel’s pride and joy.

It is a beautiful ship, Dean has to admit. Everything is sleek and clean, the very picture of modern design and functionality. He peers down the hall towards the bridge, but doesn’t see any sign of Cas.

He heads the other way instead, assuming that the crew’s quarters will be towards the back. His instincts are good, because he’s hardly walked ten paces before Castiel appears in front of him, rounding the corner where two passages intersect.

“You made it,” he says, sounding almost surprised.

“Well, yeah,” Dean replies. “An offer like that? Would be stupid to refuse.”

“And exactly what kind of offer are we talking about it?” Cas’ voice is low and teasing and Dean kinda wants to hear him talk like that forever.

So he shrugs, noting the way Castiel’s eyes track the movement of his shoulders. “You tell me.”

“I think,” Castiel says slowly, his gaze lingering on Dean’s lips, “I’d rather show you.” He holds out his hand to Dean, who takes it without hesitation.

And then it’s just a few short steps down the other passage and Castiel is pulling him through an open doorway into what must be his quarters because he’s pushing Dean towards the bed and his hand are sliding up Dean’s arms to grab him around the shoulders as he lowers his mouth to Dean’s in a bruising kiss--

“Fuck,” Dean murmurs, arching into it. There’s more aggression here than there has been in their previous kisses, and it’s making his knees a little wobbly. He grips Castiel by the hips just to steady himself as he kisses back with equal intensity.

“You were so jealous of Balthazar, weren’t you,” Cas murmurs in his ear as he trails his lips across Dean’s jaw and down the side of his neck.

Dean fights to answer around a noise that could be charitably described as a whimper. “I was,” he finally gasps out. “I know I’ve got no right, but still.”

Castiel pulls back for a moment as he considers this. “You have every right,” he says eventually. “But no reason.”

Then he’s kissing Dean again, and slowly backing him up towards the bed that sits so invitingly behind them. 

As much as Dean is enjoying the way Castiel has taken charge of the situation, he’s starting to feel like he isn’t doing enough to show him just how much he’s enjoying himself. So he tugs lightly at Cas’ shirt, silently asking permission to remove it. Castiel chuckles and raises his arms to make it easier for Dean to slide the fabric over his head and toss it aside.

Christ, Cas is gorgeous. Dean runs his hands all over his bare chest, admiring the play of muscles beneath the skin. Cas shudders and grabs Dean by the wrists, halting his movements. “You too,” he says, and Dean isn’t about to say no.

He shrugs out of his own shirt, and then they’re pressed together, warm skin against warm skin, and it feels like heaven. They’re so close that Dean can feel the hard line of Cas’ erection against his thigh, and he shifts just slightly-- and Cas gasps, grinding back against him automatically. Success.

“Dean,” Cas breathes out, rocking forward again. “Please.”

“What do you want, Cas?” Dean knows he needs to ask. He needs to know how far Cas wants to take things, what will make him feel good. This thing between them is still so new.

Cas looks up at him, his pupils dilated, his lips swollen from their kisses. He gently pushes at Dean’s shoulder, backing him up until his knees hit the edge of the bed, then guides him down so he’s sitting. Then he slowly lowers himself to his knees in front of Dean, his intention clear. 

“I want to make you fall apart with my mouth,” Cas says. “If that’s okay with you, of course.”

Dean isn’t sure if he should laugh or cry or thank the stars for his good luck. Maybe all three. “Yeah,” he says, his voice breaking. “It’s okay with me.”

He manages to hold himself still as Cas reaches out and strokes over the bulge in his pants, then undoes his fly. He lifts his hips then to allow him to peel off his pants and his underwear, leaving him completely nude. “Beautiful,” Cas murmurs, staring at Dean in a way that makes him feel warm all over.

Then Castiel lowers his head and takes Dean in his mouth, and Dean loses the ability to form coherent thoughts. Cas looks incredible like this, and he works Dean with his lips and his tongue, glancing up at him from under his lashes every so often. Dean carefully places a hand in his dark hair, and Castiel leans into the touch, so he tightens his grip, exhaling shakily.

“Fuck,” he murmurs. “So good, Cas.”

Thank god for technology, he thinks to himself dizzily. Around the same time that humanity figured out they could safely travel to outer space, they also came up with some pretty advanced health monitoring systems that are now standard-issue on all spacecraft. Keeping their priorities in order, they made sure they could scan for sexually transmitted infections. Thanks to that, Dean knows he’s clean, and he’s pretty sure Cas is too, meaning he doesn’t have to worry about any barriers between his dick and the wet warmth of Castiel’s mouth.

Which is definitely a good thing, because Dean isn’t going to last much longer. “Cas,” he warns. “I’m close.”

Castiel doesn’t pull back, instead wrapping one hand around the base of Dean’s cock while he continues to suck on the head. It feels incredibly good, and after another minute, Dean groans and spills into his mouth, his eyes falling shut with the intensity of his orgasm. 

Castiel leans back slowly, letting Dean’s shaft slip free of his mouth. He looks wild, his hair standing up on ends and his mouth soft and slack. Dean stares at him while he tries to catch his breath. God, he’s amazing.

“C’mere,” Dean mumbles, reaching down to pull Castiel up off his knees. Cas goes willingly, and Dean settles him so he’s straddling his lap. “Wanna get you off too.”

“It won’t take much,” Castiel admits. “Watching you, Dean…”

Dean pulls down the fly on Castiel’s pants and reaches inside, finally getting his hand on his erection. He’s hot and hard and yeah, this probably won’t take long. Cas shudders as Dean begins to stroke him and buries his head in the crook of Dean’s shoulder.

“Show me how you like it,” Dean whispers. He just wants this to be good for Cas.

Cas reaches down between them and wraps one hand around Dean’s, tightening his grip slightly and slowing the pace of his movements. Dean catches the rhythm quickly, and soon enough Cas lets his hand slip free to grip Dean by the thigh as he thrusts forward.

“C’mon, Cas,” Dean coaxes. “Let go for me.”

A helpless cry falls from Cas’ lips, and he drops his head onto Dean’s shoulder as he comes all over his hand. Dean strokes him through it with no concern for the mess, dropping kisses on Cas’ cheek as he does.

“Mmmn,” Castiel finally says. “A little jealousy goes a long way, doesn’t it.”

Dean laughs and kisses him again, on the forehead this time. “Guess so. Lemme up, I gotta clean myself off.”

Castiel reluctantly rolls off Dean and sprawls on the bed, looking lazy and sated. Dean walks into the adjoining bathroom, still naked, and washes himself off, then brings back a towel for Cas. By the time he gets back, Cas has taken off his pants, so he’s just as naked as Dean. 

Dean takes a second to admire the view, then throws the towel in his direction. It lands on his stomach, and Castiel hisses at the damp material hitting his bare skin.

“Sorry,” Dean says hastily. 

“I’ll forgive you if you keep walking around like that,” Castiel says drily. He wipes himself down, then tosses the towel to the ground and slides under the covers, beckoning to Dean to join him.

Dean goes without hesitation, climbing into the surprisingly wide bed and curling up close to Castiel. He rests his head on his chest, and Castiel’s arm comes to wind around his waist.

“This is nice,” Dean mumbles, already close to falling asleep. 

“That’s one word for it,” Castiel replies. He sounds amused. “Get some sleep, Dean.”

“Mnkay,” Dean murmurs. He closes his eyes, and lets the steady beating of Castiel’s heart lull him to sleep.


	5. Chapter 5

“We’ll arrive at our destination in ten minutes, Captain,” Charlie announces.

“Thank you, Charlie,” he says. He knows he sounds distant, but he can’t help it. He picked up his crew from their various vacation locales, and now they’re on their way to retrieve their latest passenger on Elodion. 

Castiel would rather be back at _The Family Business_ with Dean.

It’s a difficult thing to admit, even to himself. He loves his ship. He loves his crew. He loves what they do. He doesn’t think he could ever give any of them up. But he’s still struggling with the separation from Dean, maybe because they spent so much time together over the past few days. Maybe he just needs to get back into the swing of things. Slip back into professional mode.

With that in mind, he clears his throat and turns to address Hannah. “Remind me who it is we’re picking up, again.” He remembers vague details about their next passenger, but it’s good to have a refresher. 

Hannah gives him a brief smile before rattling off their passenger’s information. “His name is Marv. He runs a news broadcast, so he travels around a lot to get information and videos for his stories. He’s currently covering the negotiations between Troia and Attica, so we’ll be taking him back and forth all week.”

The name sounds familiar. Castiel frowns, trying to remember where he knows it from. “Oh,” he says eventually. “He was the first to break the story about the affair between the Duke of Fabio and his bodyguard, wasn’t he? In a rather distasteful way.”

“That’s right,” Gabriel nods. “I can’t say I like the guy’s style, but he does get good stories.”

“This should prove interesting, then,” Castiel murmurs. “We’ll be flying frequently, I imagine, and not at strictly scheduled times. I also urge you all not to converse too deeply with this Marv. I don’t want us appearing as characters in one of his pieces.”

The crew nods in unison. “Yes, sir,” Hannah replies. 

“Prepare for landing.” Castiel drops into the captain’s chair and sighs. He has a bad feeling about this.

The minute Marv steps onto the ship, Castiel knows his intuition was correct. His nasal voice grates on Castiel’s ears and his smile, while wide, is oily and insincere. 

“I’ve heard so much about this ship,” Marv says, looking around with obvious interest. “Finally decided to splurge and hire you for myself. I don’t think I’m going to regret it.”

Castiel forces a tight smile. “I’m pleased that you’re happy with us thus far,” he says. “May I show you to your quarters?”

Marv’s face falls. “I thought maybe I could do a short feature on the crew, give you a special mention in my story.”

Gabriel is making a horrified face over Marv’s shoulder, and Castiel feels Hannah stiffen beside him. He draws himself up and puts as much authority into his voice as possible. “I’m afraid that won’t be possible. We made no negotiations for that in our contract.”

Marv sighs moodily. “Alright, alright. I guess I’ll go do some edits, then. My quarters?”

Gabriel rescues Castiel from having to spend another minute with this odious man. “I’ll take you,” he says. Once Marv’s back is turned, he looks at Castiel and mouths _you owe me_. Castiel nods furiously. He certainly will owe Gabriel for this, but it will be worth it.

Once they’re out of earshot, Charlie turns to Castiel with a disgusted look on her face, “Ew,” she says. “We have to spend a week with this guy? He might be even worse than Roman.”

“We shouldn’t speak ill of our passengers,” Castiel replies automatically. It’s something he had drilled into his head in his childhood. But in this case, he absolutely agrees with Charlie.

“It will be difficult,” he acknowledges. “But we have a reputation to maintain. We’re professionals, remember? If his behaviour towards any of you is less than respectful, inform me immediately. Otherwise, we will have to do our best to remain unruffled.”

This proves much easier said than done. By day three, Castiel is ready to tear his hair out. Marv is constantly popping up on the bridge, trying to engage the crew in conversation. He barely seems to sleep, which causes its own problems-- the crew are losing sleep flying him back and forth so frequently, and as such, their tempers are short. 

Things reach a tipping point on the fourth day. Castiel has been counting down until Marv is off his ship, and they’re nearly at the halfway point, he reminds himself. Not much longer now. And he’ll never accept him as a passenger again. He’ll outright lie if he has to, claiming that they’re booked even if they’re not.

They’ve just picked Marv back up from Troia, and he’s lingering on the bridge, trying to engage Castiel in conversation about his latest scoop. Castiel couldn’t care less. 

“If you’ll excuse me,” he says, polite but firm, “I have to run some diagnostics in the engine room.”

“Can I come?” Marv asks eagerly, and Castiel cringes. He should have anticipated that question. 

“It isn’t safe for passengers,” he replies smoothly. “I’m sorry. Have a good evening.”

He turns on his heel and practically runs down the passage to escape. He feels slightly guilty leaving the rest of the crew with Marv, but they all have jobs to do to keep the ship flying, and he’ll get bored when they don’t have time to answer his invasive questions.

Once inside the engine room, he relaxes. Finally, some peace and quiet that he can enjoy while still being productive. Castiel would be a poor captain if he spent all his time locked away in his quarters just to escape their obnoxious guest.

And he wasn’t lying to Marv-- he does have diagnostics to run. Are they absolutely essential to the ship at the moment? Perhaps not. But they’ll need to be done eventually, and now is convenient for Castiel. 

He tinkers for a few minutes, reacquainting himself with some of the ship’s machinery. He catches himself humming as he works, happy to be working with his hands again like he did so often before his parents died and he took on the role of Captain. 

Maybe fifteen minutes after he left the bridge, there’s a sharp knock on the engine room door. Castiel sighs to himself, expecting that Marv has found his way here somehow. He pulls the door open, prepared to rattle off more excuses about how unsafe it is, but Marv isn’t the one standing on the other side.

It’s Hannah, and she looks upset. Which is unusual for her-- not that she’s cold or unfeeling, but merely that she doesn’t let her emotions get the better of her.

“Hannah?” Castiel asks, dropping the tool he was holding. “What is it?”

She shakes her head, her lips pressed together tightly. Castiel exits the engine room and joins her in the hallway, steering her towards the common area where they can sit more comfortably. She doesn’t say a word on the way there, and he’s getting more and more concerned.

Castiel guides her into one of the chairs and takes a seat across from her. “What happened?” he asks gently. 

Hannah visibly gathers herself before answering, lifting her chin and finally meeting Castiel’s gaze. “I have to report an incident, Captain.”

He feared as much. “Continue.”

“Our current passenger…” Hannah grimaces. “Has made several distasteful remarks over the past few days, but just now, he attempted to offer me money or other favours in exchange for our flight records over the past few months. To add to his story about the current diplomatic negotiations, I suppose.”

Castiel rises to his feet so quickly that he knocks his chair over. “Did he threaten you?” he demands furiously.

Hannah shakes her head. “No, sir. I told him his proposal was dishonorable and unwelcome, and came directly here. Fortunately, he didn’t attempt to follow me.”

She sounds more angry than distressed, but he needs to be sure. “Hannah,” he says, looking her directly in the eye. “Tell me, as a friend, not as a captain.”

She manages a tight smile. “I’ll be alright, Castiel,” she says. “Truly. No lasting harm done. But I don’t wish to have the encounter repeated.”

“You won’t,” he says darkly. “I’ll make sure of that.”

“I don’t understand why he thought I would be so easily tempted,” she says angrily. “So easily bought.”

“Because he would be,” Castiel tells her. “So he assumes the same about everyone else.” He claps her on the shoulder and turns to leave.

“What are you doing?” she asks, watching as he makes for the door. 

He turns to grin sharply at her. “Making sure he doesn’t bother you, or any of us, ever again.”

Hannah follows him as he walks quickly back to the bridge. Marv is there, leaning against the wall, scribbling in his ever-present notebook, his eyes darting back and forth between Charlie and Gabriel.

“Charlie,” Castiel says. She looks up and offers him a salute. “Set course for Troia.”

She gives him a puzzled look. “Sir, you want us to go back?”

“Precisely.” Charlie stares at him a minute longer, then nods and adjusts their destination.

Marv, who has been following the conversation with interest, comes to stand beside Castiel. “Did we forget something? Or have you heard something new?” 

Castiel turns to face him, not bothering to hide his disgust and his fury. “No. We’re returning you to Troia, where you will make arrangements for alternative transport. Our contract is ended. We do not tolerate harassment aboard this vessel, Marv.”

“Harassment?” Marv sputters. “What are you talking about?”

“He’s talking about your attempt to persuade me to divulge confidential information in exchange for mere money,” Hannah says. She stands tall, her voice icy. “There are consequences for such behaviour, even for a paying customer such as yourself.”

Gabriel lets out a low whistle. “Oh yeah, bad move. What kind of business do you think we’re running here?”

“You can’t just drop me off and leave me there!” Marv whines. “I need to get to Attica.”

“That is no longer our concern,” Castiel informs him. “I suggest you return to your quarters and pack your things. I will inform you when we arrive, and personally escort you off this ship, where you will never be welcome again.”

Marv starts to say something, but Castiel holds up a hand to cut him off. “No,” he says simply. “If you do not turn around and go back to quarters this instant, I will drag you there myself.”

The other man gapes at him for a second, but Castiel’s face must show how deadly serious he is, because Marv whirls around and practically flees, muttering to himself as he makes his escape.

Castiel sighs and scrubs a hand over his forehead. That was necessary, but not particularly pleasant. There’s a moment of silence, and then--

“Thank you,” Hannah says softly. 

“No need to thank me,” Castiel tells her. “It was the right thing to do. I’m sorry that I ever allowed that man aboard this ship.”

“You did good, Cas,” Gabriel says, clapping him on the back. “Never seen you get that intimidating before. I was impressed.”

“Yeah, Captain,” Charlie adds. “That was awesome.”

“I won’t allow any of you to be made uncomfortable or threatened on our own ship,” he tells them. “I hope that you all know that your safety is my top priority.”

“We know,” Hannah says, offering him a smile. “But this was a good reminder.”

Castiel lays a comforting hand on her shoulder. “Get some rest,” he tells her. “We may need to do some scrambling to find a new contract, so we’ll need all of our energy soon enough.”

He doesn’t care if they have to take odd jobs to fill the gap in their schedule, or if Marv makes complaints to others about his treatment onboard the _Seraph_. What matters is his crew. His family. As long as they have each other, they’ll be alright.

***

Dean’s humming to himself as he works. He’s been doing that a lot lately. Not that it’s entirely unusual for him, but it seems more frequent now.

It’s probably because of Cas.

The guy just makes him happy. Plain and simple. When he was younger and more cynical, Dean would have been displeased at the notion, expecting it all to go sour. He’s actually gotten more optimistic as he’s gotten older. He’s happy, Cas seems to be happy, and that’s good enough for him. He’s allowed to be hopeful about this.

His communicator beeps, surprising him. It’s a bit early for Sam’s nightly check-in, but his schedule has been pretty hectic lately, so maybe he’s fitting his chat with Dean in now between talks or whatever. But when Dean looks at the device, it’s not Sam’s name displayed there, but Castiel’s.

Dean blinks at it for a second. They’ve sent each other a few messages every day since Cas left, but they haven’t spoken directly.

He accepts the call, adjusting the screen for a better angle. “Hey,” he says warmly when Castiel’s face comes into view. “This is a nice surprise.”

“Hello, Dean.” Castiel smiles, but it doesn’t reach his eyes. 

Dean is immediately on high alert. “What’s wrong?”

Castiel grimaces. “Is it that obvious?”

“Kinda,” Dean tells him. Here he was thinking Cas just missed him enough to call rather than send him a message, but that’s obviously not the case. Cas needs him, needs his support in some way. Dean can’t help feeling pleased at the realization. He likes being useful.

Castiel lets out a deep sigh. “I’m sorry to trouble you.”

“Stop it,” Dean tells him firmly. “You obviously called for a reason. Take your time if you need to, but tell me why.”

“I had to kick our current passenger off the ship for attempting to bribe us into revealing information about our past passengers and routes,” Cas blurts out.

That was not at all what Dean was anticipating. “Holy shit, Cas, are you okay?”

Castiel shakes his head. “It wasn’t directed at me. Mostly at Hannah.”

“Is _she_ okay?”

“She says she will be, and I trust her,” Castiel says with another heavy sigh. “She refused to tell him anything, of course. And reported it to me immediately.”

“Who was your passenger?” Dean asks. He can’t help being curious.

“You may know of him. His name is Marv, he runs a fairly popular information feed.”

Dean makes a face. “That guy’s gross,” he says. “I’m not at all surprised to hear that he’s a douche.”

Castiel laughs, but there’s little humour in it. “I should have known,” he mutters darkly. “Should never have allowed him to make arrangements with us.”

Dean can tell he’s really beating himself up about this. “Cas, man, there’s no way you could have known. And he’s gone now.”

“It still feels wrong. This ship is our home, Dean. And I allowed him in, and he put one of my crew, my family, into an incredibly uncomfortable and possibly threatening situation.”

Dean clearly isn’t getting through to him. Time to get personal. “You think I don’t know about that?”

Even on the small screen of his communicator, Dean can see the tiny lines that appear around Cas’ eyes when he squints, considering Dean’s statement. “What do you mean?”

“I know my place seems all quaint and cozy, and most of the time it is,” Dean explains. “But it’s still a public space, which means eventually, some asshole is gonna show up. I’ve kicked people out before, Cas. Banned them from ever coming back. For all sorts of shit-- coming in drunk, hitting on the staff, hitting on other customers who clearly weren’t interested, breaking the tables, whatever.”

“Goodness,” Castiel says, startled. “I can’t really picture any of that happening. It seems so serene in your cafe.”

“Because I do my best to keep it that way,” Dean replies. “From what you’re telling me, you did exactly what I would have done. Something happened, you made sure it would never happen again. You can’t go back and make it un-happen, so that’s the best you could have done.”

“I suppose,” Castiel replies, but he doesn’t sound convinced. “I’m worried about our reputation as well. Marv is a popular figure. What if he goes on the record against us? Our livelihood could be at stake.”

That’s actually a fair point. Marv may be a dickwad, but he has a large audience. “Yeah, but you guys have been around how long now?” Dean reasons. “Surely you’ve got plenty of other satisfied customers. Even if he does try to bring you down, they’ll know that whatever he says isn’t the case. And anyone who takes his word over your years of proven awesomeness is probably someone else you don’t want on your ship anyway.”

Castiel laughs again, but it sounds much more genuine this time. “That’s a fair point,” he concedes. “Thank you, Dean.”

“No need to thank me. Happy to help.”

“I’m glad I called,” Cas murmurs. “I wasn’t sure if I should. We haven’t really established the parameters of our...relationship, whatever it is.”

Oh, so they’re going to have The Talk. Okay. Dean can do this. “Well, you kinda just answered your own question,” he points out. “Cas, I like you a lot, okay? And I wanna be there for you. I don’t care if we put a label on it or not. But it’s real.”

“That’s almost exactly what I was going to say,” Castiel replies warmly. “But it’s good to hear nevertheless.”

“So does this mean you’re gonna come back and see me now that you’ve got some spare time in your schedule?” Dean asks. He really hopes so. He wants to give Cas a hug and make him some hot chocolate, then kiss him all better. Maybe not necessarily in that order.

“I’m afraid not,” Castiel says. He does sound genuinely sorry about it. “We actually received another call before we even ditched Marv back on Troia. Things aren’t going well between them and Attica. Lots of people are going to need transport over the next little while.”

Sam had made some vague statements about the same thing the last time he and Dean talked. “Yeah, I know Sammy’s running himself ragged with all these diplomatic negotiations. Maybe you’ll get a chance to fly him around again.”

“That would be nice,” Castiel agrees. “He’s an excellent passenger.”

“But I’m still better looking, right?” Dean teases.

He’s treated to an exasperated eye-roll from Cas. “Yes, Dean. Is this how it’s going to be now? Do you need constant reassurance of how attractive I find you?”

“I don’t _need_ it, necessarily. But it’s always nice to hear,” Dean says with a wink.

“Dean, you are the most gorgeous man I have ever seen in my entire life,” Castiel deadpans. “How was that?”

He can’t help but chuckle. “Wow. That was truly awful. If you’re going to be busy and away from me for the foreseeable future, we’re going to have work on this. A lot.”

“I know it isn’t the easiest way to begin a relationship,” Castiel says, turning serious once more. “Not being able to spend much time together.”

“Cas, we just spent basically an entire week together. And look at all this cool technology we’ve got. We can keep in touch. I can leave you long pouting messages about how much I miss you while you’re busy kicking ass and doing important work.”

Dean means every word of it. He knows Castiel’s job guarantees a measure of unpredictability in their relationship. Pretty much the same way that Sam’s does. So he’s going to do the same thing for Cas that he does for Sam: be a safe place, a fixed point for them to rotate around. 

Obviously he plans to send Cas very different messages than he does to Sam, though.

“And you’ll make sure to have lots of tasty treats for me when I finally do make it back, hmn?” Castiel asks.

“You bet.”

“Alright. I can live that with,” Castiel says. 

“Awesome.”

“I should go.” He doesn’t exactly look enthused about it. “I still have a ship to run, after all.”

“Bye, Cas,” Dean says. “I mean it. Call me anytime, you hear?”

“Alright, Dean.” Cas hesitates, then blows a kiss at the screen. “I miss you.”

“Miss you too,” Dean says, pressing a hand to his cheek to catch the virtual kiss. 

Castiel ends the call, and Dean leans back against the table, smiling to himself. It’s not going to be easy, with Cas so far away, but he’s pretty sure it’s going to be worth it.


	6. Chapter 6

“Captain, the GDC are hailing us again,” Hannah announces, turning around to face him. “They say it’s urgent.”

Castiel sighs and adjusts the collar of his uniform, then accepts the transmission from the Galactic Diplomatic Corps. They’ve been in near-constant contact over the past week, frantically trying to arrange transport for the numerous diplomats and peace-keepers working to prevent the potential crisis situation between Troia and Attica. 

“Captain Castiel Novak of the _Seraph_ ,” he announces. “How may I assist you?”

“Captain Novak,” Naomi greets him. She’s as polite and formal as ever, but Castiel can hear the weariness in her voice. She’s under a tremendous amount of pressure, and he can’t imagine how difficult it is for her. “We’re aware that you are en route to Troia. We’d like for you to pick up a passenger there and bring him safely back to Illidium.”

Castiel frowns at the screen. “Yes, we’re available, but may I ask why? Most of our recent missions have been directly between Troia and Attica.”

Naomi presses her lips together tightly. “Your prospective passenger is the son of one of our Council members. He’s been studying on Troia, but his mother has become concerned about the growing unrest and wants to ensure his safety. We worry that he may be taken hostage as leverage against the Council.”

“Of course we’ll take him,” Castiel replies. “We should arrive in approximately two hours. Will we be departing again immediately?”

“He will be ready and waiting at Bay 23,” Naomi tells him. “Captain-- thank you.”

Castiel nods and ends the transmission. He turns back to the crew, who have been listening with interest. “And just when we thought we might have a few spare hours,” he jokes weakly.

“It sounds important,” Hannah replies. “An unsupervised child on the ship, though? None of us are particularly good with children.”

She sounds more concerned about that than about flying back into a quadrant of the universe on the brink of war. It brings a fond smile to Castiel’s face. “Naomi said he’s a student, Hannah. I highly doubt we’ll be dealing with a toddler.”

She looks quite relieved. Gabriel, however, looks almost disappointed. “Would have been a nice change,” he says.

Charlie is unusually quiet, so Castiel crosses over and crouches down beside her. She barely looks up from her navigation screen. “Hey, Captain,” she says, with far less energy than usual.

This constant back-and-forth has been difficult on all of them, but as the pilot, Charlie bears the brunt of it. There are dark circles under her eyes, proof of her lack of sleep. Castiel drops a comforting hand on her shoulder. “Go get some rest,” he advises. “I can fly until we’re almost there, which gives you almost two hours to nap. I know you’ll want to make the landing, though.”

She looks up then, her face full of gratitude. “Thanks, Cas,” she says, giving him a quick hug. He returns it, then gently pushes her away in the direction of her quarters. Gabriel and Hannah call out goodnights, which she acknowledges with a wave of her hand, then disappears down the passage.

Castiel settles into her seat. It’s an easy flight from here to Troia, and any of the crew could handle it if necessary. They trust Charlie for the more delicate maneuvers and landings, though. And considering the current instability in the galaxy, they never know when they may need to take evasive measures.

After a few minutes, Gabriel brings him a cup of coffee. Castiel takes it gratefully, but after his first sip, it fails to comfort him. It tastes flat in comparison with the coffee Dean has made him. He drinks it anyway, because it’s warm and he can use the caffeine, but it makes him miss Dean even more than he normally has over the past week.

They’ve sent messages back and forth, but Castiel hasn’t had the time for in-depth conversations. Any spare time he has is spent sleeping to keep his energy up for the next flight. He had hoped that after dropping off their current passenger they might have a slight gap in their schedule, but now that won’t be the case.

And speaking of their current passenger…”Gabriel, please let Bartholomew know that we will reach our destination in just under two hours.”

Castiel hasn’t had much interaction with Bartholomew, but the man’s eyes always look cold. At least he keeps to himself and doesn’t interfere with the crew the way Marv did. 

It’s calming, being behind the controls again. Castiel flew the ship a lot more before becoming captain, and he never realized how much he missed it until now. Watching the stars go by, he breathes deeply, in and out, and tries to relax. There’s a sense of unease in the universe, like it could all go terribly wrong any minute, and Castiel fights to keep it from swallowing him up.

He has to set a good example for the crew, he reminds himself. They take their cues from him. If he stays calm and collected and does his job as normal, everything will be fine. Or so he hopes.

The time passes quickly, and soon enough Charlie is back, looking much better than she did before her nap. “I’ll take it from here, Captain,” she says, gesturing at him to give her back her seat.

“Feeling better?” he asks as he stands.

Charlie nods and gives him a thumbs-up. “Power naps for the win.”

Castiel wonders if he’ll get the chance to do the same once they change passengers and head for Illidium. “Take us in, then, Charlie.”

As they make their descent, Bartholomew emerges from his quarters and comes to join them on the bridge. “A beautiful planet, isn’t it,” he comments.

“Indeed,” Castiel replies. 

“Would be a shame if our negotiations fail and it’s wiped out of existence,” Bartholomew continues. Despite his words, he doesn’t look too troubled at the prospect. 

Gabriel looks over at Castiel with an eyebrow raised. Castiel shakes his head briefly. He isn’t sure what to make of that statement either. “I hope that you are able to prevent such an event,” he says. It’s a neutral statement. He doesn’t wish to engage in an argument now.

“Hmn,” Bartholomew says. “In any case, my thanks for delivering me here safely. If I need transport, I’ll be sure to keep you in mind in the future.”

He extends his hand for Castiel to shake, which he does with some reluctance. At least he’s another satisfied customer. 

Once Charlie has set the ship down at Bay 23 as instructed, Castiel and Hannah escort Bartholomew off the ship. There’s a young man standing there, several large bags at his feet. This must be their next passenger.

“Captain Castiel Novak of the _Seraph_ ,” Castiel says. “And my crewmate, Hannah.”

“Kevin Tran,” the young man says. As predicted, he’s not a child, but in his late teens, most likely. “I’m ready when you are.”

Castiel picks up one of his bags, and Kevin takes the others. Hannah leads them back onto the ship, and the door closes behind them. Kevin casts a wistful look back the way they came, and Castiel feels a pang of sympathy for him. It must be difficult, leaving at this time of crisis.

“Shall I show you to your quarters?” Castiel asks.

Kevin meets his eyes for the first time. “Sure,” he says, clearly unenthused. 

Castiel looks over at Hannah. Moody teenagers are no easier to handle than small children. Hannah nods at him encouragingly, so Castiel tries another tactic. “If you prefer, you can join the crew on the bridge.”

That brings a small smile to Kevin’s face. “Cool,” he says simply. “But let’s get rid of these bags first.”

“We can do that,” Castiel replies, feeling oddly pleased with his success in coaxing Kevin out of his shell.

Once his things are deposited in the guest quarters, Castiel takes Kevin back to the bridge, answering a slew of questions about the ship and its purpose along the way. Apparently Kevin is quite curious once you get him going. He’s respectful, though, so Castiel doesn’t mind. 

“This is Kevin Tran,” he announces to the rest of the crew. “Kevin, meet Gabriel and Charlie. You already know Hannah.”

“Hey,” Kevin says. “This is the whole crew? For such a big ship?”

“We’re all really good at what we do, kid,” Gabriel says with a wink. 

Kevin looks impressed. “That’s pretty cool. I definitely thought you would have at least two pilots…”

Castiel watches indulgently as they chat away. He catches Hannah’s eye and indicates that he’s going to step out for a minute. “Go,” she mouths at him. “We’re fine.”

Satisfied that Kevin is in good hands, he hurries to his quarters and pulls out his communicator to call Dean. It takes a few seconds, but then Dean’s smiling face fills the screen, and Castiel feels an answering smile spread across his face. 

“Cas!” Dean exclaims. “This is a nice surprise. How are you doing?”

“Better now,” Castiel says truthfully. “It’s been extremely busy. I’m sorry we haven’t had much time to talk.”

Dean waves a dismissive hand. “I told you, I can handle it. It’s just nice to hear from you.”

“I know,” Castiel sighs. Hearing Dean’s voice and seeing his face through the communicator is nice, but he can’t help wanting more. “We’re on our way to Illidium with a new passenger. Good kid.”

Dean hums thoughtfully. “We’re not really in the area, but we could be.”

Castiel frowns at him. “What?”

“You don’t have much time, so I don’t see you getting the chance to come find my ship anytime soon. But I miss you, and it sounds like you miss me. So why don’t I come to you?” Dean reasons.

It makes a certain amount of sense, but the generosity of it still overwhelms Castiel. “You’d do that?”

“Of course,” Dean says, his face softening. “Look, Cas. We move around a fair bit too, just not with strict destinations in mind the way you do. There’s no reason we can’t just arrange to be where you are. Besides,” he says, grinning, “I’m the owner, and the captain. And I want to come see my boyfriend.”

“Such an abuse of power,” Castiel murmurs. “But seeing as I’m the one benefitting from it, I won’t complain.”

“Good, then it’s settled. We’ll meet you at Illidium with plenty of coffee and assorted pastries for you and the crew.”

“I look forward to it,” Castiel says. “See you soon, Dean.”

“See you soon, Cas.” Dean smiles at him one more time before ending the call.

Castiel puts away his communicator and heads back to the bridge, a bounce in his step. “Kevin,” he says when he joins them, “how do you feel about coffee?”

***

Dean’s been at the helm for a while when Jo slides into the seat beside him and gently nudges his shoulder. “We’re getting close,” she says. “Why don’t I take over here so you can head back to the kitchen and get baking for your boy?”

Dean eyes her suspiciously. “What makes you think he has anything to do with this?”

This time, her nudge is far less gentle. “Dean. We’ve flown together for years. The only time you drop everything and make a concrete flight plan is when we’re going to wherever Sam is. Now, because I also talk to Sam, I know he’s nowhere near Illidium right now. Meaning that we’re dropping everything to go see someone else. And it’s pretty obvious who that would be.”

Sometimes Dean thinks Jo is too smart for her own good. At the very least, she’s too smart for _his_ own good. But it’s tempered by her big heart, so he doesn’t mind too much. “Thanks, Jo.”

“Yeah, yeah,” she mutters, taking over his seat and busying herself looking at the screen in front of her. “Oh, and Dean? You might want to change your shirt before we get there.”

He looks down at the worn and faded t-shirt he’s wearing and grimaces. It’s covered in flour and other unidentifiable ingredients. “Well, I’m only gonna mess it up more right now, but after that, yeah, you’re probably right.”

She flaps her hand dismissively at him, and he heads down the passage towards the kitchen, already running through the list of what he wants to make. He knows Charlie has a fondness for muffins of any sort, and Gabriel seems like to pretty much anything. He’s not sure about Hannah because she doesn’t talk to him much, but she likes the coffee, so that’s a good start. 

And he’s finally figured out the perfect thing to make for Castiel, but he’ll save those for last so they’re still warm when he gets to _The Family Business_. He’s probably over-doing it a little bit, but Dean doesn’t really care. He likes taking care of people, he likes feeding them, and he likes Cas. Simple as that.

The kitchen is empty when he walks in, which is perfect. He can turn up the music as loud as he wants without anyone complaining. Soon enough he’s got bowls all over the counter and tables and his shirt is even more of a mess than it was when he got in here. There are both blueberry and lemon-poppyseed muffins in the oven, and a tray of cherry danishes ready to go in beside them.

Now for Castiel’s special treat: honey-almond croissants. Dean’s tinkered with the recipe a few times, and he’s pretty confident that Cas is going to love them. They’re flaky and sweet, with just a hint of crunch from the almonds. Thankfully Cas doesn’t have any allergies, which would make this whole thing a lot more difficult. 

Once they’re ready for the oven, Dean sets the timer and dashes back to his quarters to take a quick shower and, as Jo suggested, change his clothes. He knows he doesn’t have to try too hard to impress Cas at this point-- they’ve already been naked together, so whatever Dean wears, Cas is probably going to want to get him out of anyway-- but he still wants to look nice. So he puts on one of his better pairs of jeans and a dark grey sweater that fits nicely to his chest and shoulders, stopping to check his reflection in the mirror before heading back to the kitchen. Not bad, he thinks to himself, not bad at all. 

The croissants are gloriously golden when he reaches the kitchen, and if his estimates are correct, they should be arriving at Illidium in minutes. Perfect. He pulls the tray from the oven and arranges them on another plate to bring out front. 

Benny sniffs the air appreciatively as Dean carries the freshly-baked pastries out to where he’s fixing a latte for a customer. “Good work,” he says. “I hear we got ourselves a hungry, exhausted crew about to descend upon us.”

“Yep,” Dean says, arranging his new offerings in the glass case. “And you know how much we like to turn hungry, exhausted people into satisfied, caffeinated ones.”

“The family business,” Benny recites. “You’re doing a great job, Dean.”

“Thanks, Benny.” Dean claps his friend on the back and wipes a stray smudge from the bottom of his sweater. “You wanna head out?”

“Nah,” Benny replies. “The minute your space captain gets here, you’ll be itching to be with him and not behind this counter. I’ll handle it, and Jo will be back before long now that we’re coming to a stop.”

Dean is always grateful for his friends, but particularly so at this moment. “I owe you,” he tells Benny.

“Yep,” Benny grins. “And when I cash in, I’ll make it a good one.”

Dean’s about to fire back a clever retort when he feels the ship shudder to a halt beneath them. They’re here. He rocks back and forth on his heels, impatient, until Benny forces him to make a few drinks to distract himself. 

It works, because Dean has his back to the door, handing a mug of Earl Grey tea to an older gentleman, when Castiel and his crew file in. It takes Benny clearing his throat for Dean to whip around and see them, and it’s a good thing he’s not holding anything anymore, because he might have dropped it in his rush to get out from behind the counter.

Castiel smiles at him, and while he looks genuinely happy to see Dean, he also looks exhausted. Dean wants to sweep him up an in embrace, but he’s aware of how crowded the room is, so he just lays a hand on his shoulder instead. “Glad you made it, Cas.”

“Glad to be here,” Cas replies. 

Dean looks at the rest of the crew, who look just as tired as their captain. “Well, I made you guys a bunch of stuff, and drinks are on the house. Go on and let Benny know what you want.”

Charlie beams at him. “Thanks, Dean!” She even gives him a quick hug, which surprises him, but he returns it nevertheless.

Gabriel and Hannah offer their thanks as well, then zoom over to the counter where Benny is patiently awaiting them. 

Dean steers Castiel into the most comfortable chair available, then holds up a hand. “Wait here,” he instructs. 

“Dean, I can get my own--” Cas starts, but Dean cuts him off.

“Nope. Not today.” Cas looks like he still wants to argue, but Dean walks away before he can get going.

He comes back a few minutes later with a chai latte and two of the honey-almond croissants. “Here,” he says, offering them to Castiel. “Made ‘em just for you.”

Castiel’s face softens. “That’s very sweet of you.” He takes a bite, and Dean watches anxiously for his reaction. Cas’ eyes flutter closed in appreciation, and he lets out a contented sigh that has Dean grinning in triumph. 

“Good?” he asks hopefully.

“So good,” Castiel replies. “You have a true gift, Dean.”

“I have many gifts, actually,” Dean informs him. “Being a kick-ass baker is just one of them.”

His comment has the desired effect, because it makes Castiel laugh and roll his eyes fondly. “I’m well-acquainted with some of your other gifts as well,” he says, his voice lowered. 

He should not be allowed to say things like that in public. It gives Dean all sorts of ideas. So he coughs to keep himself from saying something incredibly inappropriate, and changes to the subject. “Really, though, Cas. How are you?”

“Tired,” Cas says, like that wasn’t obvious from the minute he stepped through the door. “And a bit worried, to be honest. Kevin-- our last passenger-- he was being evacuated because the Council fears we’re on the brink of a war between Troia and Attica.”

Dean nods. “Yeah, Sam’s been saying the same thing. He’s lucky, though. He speaks Gornish, so they’ve got him working out there, far away from any potential trouble.”

“Good,” Castiel says. “I’m glad you don’t have to worry about him.”

“I always worry about him,” Dean says, “but yeah, it could be a hell of a lot worse.” He’s grateful for Sam’s distance from the looming conflict, of course, but it still sucks being so far away from him. “So what’s next for you guys?”

Castiel shrugs loosely and takes a sip of his chai latte. “Nothing, as of yet. I expect we’ll receive a request for transport sooner rather than later, but for now, we finally have a bit of a break.”

“Thanks for spending it with me,” Dean says quietly, reaching out to take hold of Cas’ free hand. “It, uh, means a lot to me.”

Cas squeezes Dean’s hand. “There’s no one else I’d rather spend it with, and nowhere else I’d rather be right now.”

That’s a pretty strong statement right there. Even though they’re in public, Dean can’t help himself-- he leans over and gives Cas a quick kiss on the lips. Just enough to acknowledge the weight of his comment and to let Cas know that the feeling is mutual. 

His lips are sticky from the honey of the croissant, but it makes his mouth taste even sweeter. Dean doesn’t really want to stop kissing him. Not now, and not ever. 

But he pulls away, because this isn’t exactly the right time or the right place. Cas sighs wistfully as he does, clearly thinking the same thing. 

Dean leans over and steals the last bite of Cas’ croissant. It is pretty damn good, if he says so himself. Cas makes a noise of protest, and Dean just grins cheekily at him. “It’s my fee for making them for you,” he explains.

Cas rolls his eyes and starts in on the other one. “Fine,” he says. “I suppose it’s worth it.”

Their hands are still entwined on the small table between them, and Dean lifts them up to press another kiss to the back of Cas’s hand, causing a slight flush to rise in his cheeks. “I’m glad you’re here, Cas,” he says again.


	7. Chapter 7

It’s starting to quiet down in the cafe, customers leaving in groups of two or three, waving farewell or offering quick goodnights to Dean as they go. He has a genuine reply for each of them, and Castiel marvels at the way he has crafted such strong connections with everyone who passes through here. 

Dean turns back to him after one such farewell, but before he can say anything, Castiel’s communicator buzzes in his pocket. “Sorry,” he offers. “I should probably…”

“Yeah, go on,” Dean says. 

Castiel stands and walks a few feet away for privacy. He looks down at the screen and sees that it’s Naomi calling. His heart sinks, but he accepts the call. “Naomi,” he greets. “How are you?”

“No time for pleasantries, Castiel,” she says brusquely. “We have a mission for you.”

“Go on,” Castiel says, pinching the bridge of his nose with his free hand. He feared as much.

“We need emergency transport off Troia. Our talks are failing. We have crews working already, but some of the most influential diplomats are refusing to leave until the last possible moment.”

“And you want us to be the ones to pick them up.” Right in the heart of the conflict zone. Right as it erupts, most likely.

“I don’t trust anyone else with this.” Naomi’s face softens. “I’m sorry, Castiel. You’re under no obligation to accept, of course. But we’re begging you.”

Of course he’s going to go. But he dreads the thought of endangering his crew. “One moment,” he tells Naomi, and walks over to where Charlie, Hannah, and Gabriel are seated.

They must read the indecision on his face, because they immediately stand and gather around the communicator as he holds it out to them. Naomi nods at them all and repeats the details of the proposed mission. 

Gabriel, surprisingly, is the first to speak. “I’m in,” he says, more serious than Castiel has ever heard him. 

Charlie looks a little pale, but she nods as well. “Me too.”

Hannah just smiles wryly at Castiel. “We’re with you, Captain.”

Naomi sighs in relief. “Thank you. All of you. The good news is, your passengers refuse to leave until noon tomorrow, when the last talk is set to conclude. You have the night to rest up. Good luck.”

Castiel ends the calls and looks at his crew. His wonderful, brave, compassionate friends. He doesn’t know what to say to them.

Gabriel claps him on the back. “I’m going to bed,” he announces. “Looks like we’ll be needing our sleep.”

“And I should go call Dorothy,” Charlie says. “She’s gonna be pissed, but I think she’ll understand.”

“Hael will be the same,” Hannah says. “We’ll see you in the morning, Captain.”

The girls stride off arm-in-arm, soon catching up to Gabriel before he disappears down the passage towards where the _Seraph_ is parked. Castiel watches them go, unsure whether he should join them. He finds it difficult to move from this spot.

A warm arm gently encircles his shoulder. “Hey,” Dean says, leaning in close. “What’s going on?”

Castiel turns and looks up at him. “We have a new mission,” he says.

And Dean-- intuitive, clever Dean, who has learned to read Castiel so well already-- widens his eyes in dismay. “You’re going back to Troia, aren’t you.”

“First thing in the morning,” Castiel says quietly.

Dean draws in a sharp breath and nods. “I guess I should let you get some rest, then, huh.”

And logically, that would be the best thing for Castiel to do. To go back to his ship, to his quarters, to his bed that’s too wide for him alone, and to try to get some sleep. But he looks at Dean, and he knows that isn’t going to happen.

So he gathers his courage and asks, “Can I stay?”

Dean smiles at him, soft and sad. “Of course you can stay. Come on. Let’s get out of here, at least.”

He reaches down and takes Castiel’s hand, leading him back through the corridors of the ship until they reach his living quarters. They’re quiet as they walk, but the warmth of Dean’s hand in his own keeps Castiel grounded. 

They enter Dean’s room, and the door slides closed behind them. Dean looks at Cas steadily. “Do you want something to change into?” he offers.

Does he? Again, he wouldn’t mind falling asleep in Dean’s arms, feeling safe and secure before the uncertainty of tomorrow. But that isn’t all that he wants.

So he shakes his head and slowly starts unbuttoning his shirt, holding Dean’s gaze the entire time. Dean’s breath hitches slightly, but he mimics Castiel’s movements, pulling his sweater over his head and tossing it carelessly to the floor.

He pauses with his hand on the button of his jeans, though. “I need to make sure I’m reading this right,” he says. “So tell me what you want, Cas.”

Castiel looks at him, his skin golden under the dim lights of the room, the openness of his gaze. “What I want,” he says slowly, “is to be as close to you as possible.”

Dean’s answering smile is one of the most beautiful things Castiel has ever seen. “I think we can manage that.” He steps forward, closing the gap between them, and tilts Castiel’s face up for a deep kiss.

Castiel loses himself in the warmth and pressure of Dean’s lips against his for a few minutes, until it becomes too much and yet not enough at the same time. He slides his hand down between them and strokes Dean’s cock through his jeans, drawing a pleased chuckle from him.

Dean pulls away just far enough to unbutton his pants and slide them down, and Castiel copies him. In nothing but their thin cotton underwear, they sink onto the bed, hands roving all over each other’s chests, mouths hungry and devouring as they kiss and nip at each other’s lips and jaws and throats.

The feeling of Dean’s body pressed against his is intoxicating. Dean’s skin is smooth, and Castiel keeps finding new places that make him shiver beneath him: the juncture where his neck meets his shoulder, the spot right over his heart, the bend of his elbow. 

“You smell like cinnamon,” Castiel informs him breathlessly, nosing over Dean’s wrist. “And like coffee.”

“Sorry?” Dean offers weakly.

“I’m not complaining,” Castiel replies. “Not at all.”

“Fuck, Cas,” Dean gasps as Castiel sucks a mark right below his ear. “I want you inside me.”

Castiel shudders, his hips instinctively grinding down against Dean in response to his words. “Please,” he says.

Dean leans over and rummages in the bedside table, pulling out a bottle of lubricant and handing it to Castiel with a wink. Then he slides his boxers down, leaving him bare to Castiel’s gaze, and Castiel allows himself a moment to appreciate the sight. Dean is beautiful, his broad shoulders and his freckled chest and his cock thick and flushed, resting against his stomach.

Castiel pulls off his own underwear, then leans forward to kiss Dean as he coats his fingers in lube and slides one hand down between them, pressing gently between Dean’s legs. Dean shudders and spreads his legs wider, inviting. He makes the most incredible sound as Castiel gently pushes a finger inside him, then relaxes around him.

Castiel opens him up slowly, loving the way the flush in Dean’s cheeks spreads all the way down his torso as he rocks against his fingers. By the time he has three fingers inside Dean, he’s shifting his own hips against the mattress, desperately seeking some relief for his own aching cock. 

Dean reaches down and pulls Castiel’s hand away. “I’m ready,” he says, and then in an impressive display of coordination, he flips them over so that he’s perched above Castiel.

He looks down at him, biting on his own lip. “There are condoms in the drawer,” he says, sounding surprisingly shy considering how intimate they have been, and are about to be. “But the ship’s health scanners are top of the line. And they say I’m all clear. I, uh, may have checked recently.”

Castiel almost whimpers at the thought of being inside Dean with nothing between them. “We have the same technology,” he replies. “And mine gave me the same results.”

Dean grins down at him. “Awesome.” He waits for a second, until Castiel nods and says “Yes,” then he lifts himself up and then slowly sinks down on Castiel’s cock, his mouth falling open as he does. 

Castiel groans, his eyes closing and his head falling back on the pillows as his hands come up to grip Dean by the hips. He feels incredible. 

“Open your eyes,” Dean coaxes him. “Come on, Cas. Look at me.”

Castiel looks up and meets Dean’s gaze just as he starts to move, rocking above his body with grace and confidence. Castiel holds him more firmly, giving Dean the leverage he needs to ride him with abandon, his movements rhythmic and sure.

“Let me take care of you,” Dean murmurs. “Wanna make you feel so good.” 

It’s almost overwhelming, how right this feels. How well their bodies fit together. Castiel can’t find any words to say other than Dean’s name, which falls from his lips in a steady stream as they continue to move together. 

As much as he enjoys the sight of Dean working himself into a state of dishevelment above him, Castiel finds himself greedy for more of him, for more points of contact between them. Mimicking Dean’s earlier move, he flips them again, so that Dean is on his back beneath him, miles of warm skin that Castiel can press against.

Dean lets out a surprised noise at the sudden shift in position, but it soon turns into a moan of pleasure as Castiel snaps his hips forwards, driving deeper inside him. 

“Christ, Cas,” Dean gasps out. “Just like that.”

Encouraged by Dean’s obvious pleasure, Castiel leans forward to kiss him, their mouths crashing together, desperate and deep. Dean brings his hands up to cradle Castiel’s face as they kiss, but they soon fall back to the mattress as he loses his concentration with another particularly deep shift of Castiel’s body inside him.

Not wanting to lose that connection, Castiel takes hold of Dean’s hand with his own, lacing their fingers together and keeping them pressed so close he can feel the pounding of Dean’s heart in his chest.

“Cas,” Dean says again. His voice is rough, but it’s never sounded better to Castiel. “I’m close.”

Castiel looks down at him in awe. Their hands are still clasped together, and there’s only the friction of Castiel’s torso moving against him on Dean’s cock. It’s a heady thought, knowing that Dean could reach his climax from this alone. “Come for me,” he whispers into Dean’s ear. 

Dean shudders beneath him, and moments later, he lets out a broken moan as he comes untouched between them. Castiel has never seen him look so beautiful.

He starts to pull away, but Dean shakes his head and shifts his hips up, keeping Castiel where he is. “You too,” he says, his voice still shaky from his orgasm. 

It won’t take long now. Castiel’s already losing his rhythm, hips stuttering as Dean sighs beneath him, sensitive and sated. “That’s it,” Dean urges him. “Let go, Cas.”

Castiel drops his head down to Dean’s chest as his climax hits him, spilling inside Dean’s body. He rests there for a moment as Dean gently strokes his hands down his back, soothing him, before he recovers enough to withdraw and roll off him.

“Mmnn,” Dean says. They lie there, each catching their breath, before Dean drops a kiss on Castiel’s forehead and makes his way to the bathroom to clean himself up. He comes back with some tissue and wipes Castiel down as well, then climbs back into the bed and wraps himself around Castiel like it’s his job to protect him from the world.

Castiel chuckles and rolls onto his side. Dean follows, arranging their limbs until they’re both comfortable, warm skin on warm skin. 

Castiel doesn’t want to leave in the morning. He wishes he could stay here, in Dean’s bed, in Dean’s arms, away from all the trouble that plagues the galaxy. But he just isn’t built that way. 

“I’ll have to be awake early tomorrow,” he says quietly. There’s no sense avoiding the topic. They both know there will be no time for lazy morning kisses and sharing breakfast together like they might do under other circumstances.

“I know,” Dean says, and his hold on Castiel tightens. “But for now, just try to get some sleep.” He nuzzles into the back of Castiel’s neck, soft and affectionate.

Castiel sighs and relaxes in Dean’s embrace. He doesn’t know what tomorrow will bring. Doesn’t really want to think about it, honestly. He just wants to come back here when it’s all over.

***

Dean wakes up first the next morning, and he rolls over to look down into Castiel’s face, admiring the way his mouth goes soft in sleep. Part of him wants to wake him with a kiss, maybe get a second round in before he has to leave, but he knows Cas needs his rest. Dean won’t endanger him by sending him off less than perfectly rested.

He doesn’t want to leave this bed, though. Doesn’t want to slip away from Castiel’s embrace. These moments are precious, and Dean will guard them fiercely for as long as he can.

Since he doesn’t want to go anywhere, and he wants Cas to continue to rest, Dean indulges himself, thinking about their future together. They’re always going to be coming and going, unless one of them decides to quit their job, which seems unlikely. But Dean knows that if they both commit to it, they can make this relationship work. 

He also knows he’s pretty damn committed already. Looking at Cas as he sleeps, Dean’s positive this is a good thing. For both of them.

Cas stirs slightly, and Dean freezes, hoping he hasn’t inadvertently woken him. Cas makes a grumbling noise and rubs his face in the pillow, and Dean can’t help but smile. He’s adorable when he’s grumpy. 

After a few more minutes of muffled noises of displeasure, Cas rolls over and blinks up at Dean. “Good morning,” he says, his voice rough. 

“Morning,” Dean replies quietly. “I hope I didn’t wake you.”

Cas shakes his head. “No, I think my internal alarm is telling me it’s time to greet the day.”

Dean nods even as his heart sinks in his chest. It feels much too soon for Castiel to be leaving. “Alright,” he says. “You wanna take a shower?”

“I should go back to my ship, get changed, see the crew,” Cas replies regretfully. 

“Bring them for breakfast before you leave,” Dean offers immediately. “There’s no way I’m sending you out there on an empty stomach, or on any of that instant crap your ship makes.”

“Our galley is state-of-the-art,” Cas informs him haughtily. “The most advanced technology there is.”

“Sometimes advanced isn’t necessarily good,” Dean points out. “Just come back for breakfast, okay?”

Cas’ face softens. It’s clear he understands what Dean is really saying: _come back to me_.

“Okay,” he agrees. “But first--”

He leans over on one elbow and presses his lips to Dean’s, heedless of morning breath. The kiss is deep and surprisingly unhurried. Dean luxuriates in it for a few minutes, pulling Cas closer until he’s basically straddling him, the sheets pushed aside so their bare chests are in contact.

Dean wants thousands more mornings like this. Cas in his bed, hair dishevelled and eyes bright, kissing him like he wants to make Dean fall apart beneath him. 

And it’s definitely working.

Cas pulls away before things get too heated, however. He presses one last lingering kiss to Dean’s lips, then another to his forehead before slipping out of the bed and pulling on his uniform from the night before. Dean watches from the bed, smiling when Castiel bends slowly and deliberately to pick his pants up off the floor, giving Dean a great view of his ass as he does. 

Fully dressed, Castiel sweeps his hair into some semblance of order and gives Dean a soft smile. “I’ll be back soon,” he promises.

Dean just nods and watches as Cas leaves the room, heading back to his own ship.

With a groan, he heaves himself out of bed and stumbles into the shower, letting the hot water soothe him. He doesn’t linger under the spray, though, knowing he needs to get to the kitchen soon if he wants to have food ready for Castiel and his crew before they have to leave.

Benny’s there, mixing up a batch of scones, and he gives Dean a sly look as Dean enters the kitchen. “Have a good night?” he asks, aiming for casual and missing by a mile.

“Yep,” Dean says, throwing an apron on over his t-shirt. “Very, very, very good.”

“What are you doing here so early, then, huh? Shouldn’t you still be cuddling?” Benny bats his eyelashes at Dean, who retaliates by throwing an eggshell at him. 

“They’ve gotta leave soon,” he explains, “and I want to make them breakfast before they go.”

At least some of his worry must be evident in his tone, because Benny drops the teasing immediately. “Scones are about ready to go in, we can make some eggs and bacon to go on the side,” he offers.

Dean nods, already calculating how much they’ll need to make to feed the crew. Benny drops a comforting hand on his shoulder and says, “I’ll start the bacon.”

“No, you’re off duty,” Dean protests. “Go get some sleep.”

“I think I can manage another half hour,” Benny tells him. “Besides, I’ve gotten fond of that boy of yours, and he makes you smile. So I’m gonna stick around and help you make sure he doesn’t go off saving lives on an empty stomach.”

“Thanks, Benny,” Dean says, his throat tight. “I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

Benny doesn’t reply, just throws the empty eggshell back at Dean, hitting him square in the chest. “Save the sweet talk for your Captain,” he advises.

Dean scoffs, but he’s still smiling as he and Benny get to cooking. Jo sticks her head in at one point, asks what they’re doing, and immediately starts noting drink preferences so she can have everything ready when Castiel and his crew arrive.

Maybe they don’t go tearing off on last-minute rescue missions, but Dean’s crew do important work as well. He’s never been so proud of them, or so grateful that they’ve stuck with him all these years.

They’ve got everything arranged on platters keeping warm in the ovens, so Dean goes out to check on the front room. There are only a few other people scattered throughout the space, and fortunately the big table in the middle of the room is free. He’s just making sure there are enough chairs when he looks up to see Cas walking towards him, dressed in another one of those damn well-fitting uniforms.

“That was quick,” he says, lips quirking up into a smile. “Not that I’m complaining.”

“I missed you,” Cas says, and though his tone is light, Dean’s pretty sure he means it.

“And I was hungry,” Gabriel adds from behind him. 

Dean laughs and gestures to the table. “Grab a seat, guys. I’ll start bringing the food out.”

Castiel tries to follow him to the kitchen, but Dean gently pushes him into a chair and points a menacing finger at him. “Stay there,” he warns, “or you won’t get any scones.”

He ignores the pleading look Cas gives him and the laughter of the crew, who seem to enjoy watching their Captain get bossed around for a change. Fortunately, Jo comes over with a tray of hot drinks for everyone, distracting them, and Dean slips back to the kitchen to get the food.

A few minutes later, they’re all seated at the table, Benny and Jo joining them since it’s so slow. Hannah’s having an intense discussion with Benny that Dean can’t quite overhear, while Jo, Charlie, and Gabriel chatter away cheerfully on his other side.

“This is nice,” he says, pressing his leg against Castiel’s under the table. “Everybody hanging out like this.”

Cas nods, his gaze wandering over the group. “We’ve both been lucky in our friends,” he agrees, but there’s something distant in his voice, something strained.

Dean’s got a pretty good guess as to what it is. “They’re going to be fine,” he says soothingly. “You’re all going to be. You’re the best at what you do, aren’t you?”

“There’s never been a situation quite like this,” Castiel snaps.

Dean recoils, startled by his harsh words, and Cas immediately softens. “I’m sorry,” he says. “I’m just…”

“Worried,” Dean supplies. “I know. You think I don’t worry about Sam every time he goes anywhere near a place that’s getting a little dangerous? But what he does is important, and so is what you do.”

“Important enough to risk their lives?” Cas asks quietly.

“Yes,” Dean says firmly. “You know it is. This is just nerves talking.”

He hopes he’s saying the right thing. He’s never been in Castiel’s situation, never had to choose to accept a potentially dangerous mission or not. The most danger his crew ever faces is the risk of minor burns from the ovens. 

“You’re right,” Cas says, giving Dean a grateful look. “It’s just like any other assignment.” He sounds like he’s trying to convince himself even more than he is Dean, so Dean just nods.

“Exactly,” he says.

Cas slides his free hand into Dean’s and keeps eating, but he looks more focused, more confident. More like himself. Dean smiles approvingly and takes a sip of his coffee, relishing the warmth of Castiel’s hand in his own. 

All too quickly, the food is gone, and Castiel starts casting nervous glances at the clock on the far wall. Dean sighs and pushes his chair back from the table.

“I guess this is it,” he says.

Gabriel stops in the middle of a story about his most recent trip to Vega and turns to Cas, his expression suddenly serious. “Orders, Captain?”

There’s a line between Cas’ brows that Dean hates to see there. “Ready the ship,” Cas says quietly, but there’s no room for argument in his tone. “I’ll join you shortly.”

Dean watches as Jo and Charlie exchange hugs, as Hannah shakes hands with Benny and waves farewell to the others. He hugs them all before they file out, waving away their thanks for the meal. He’s happy he could this one small thing for them. 

After the crew has gone, Jo and Benny slip away as well, Jo back behind the counter and Benny back to his quarters to finally get some sleep. Cas is staring at the surface of the table, idly tracing over the lines of the wood, until Dean reaches out and takes hold of his wrist. 

“Come on,” he says, leading him out of the room and into the quiet corridor that leads to the docking bays. “I’ll walk you out.”

They’re quiet as they stride down the hall, their hands still joined. Dean fiddles with the small object in his pocket with his free hand, and just before they reach the bay where the _Seraph_ is docked, he stops.

“Dean?” Cas asks, giving him a puzzled look. “Is everything okay?”

“Yeah,” Dean replies, drawing in a deep breath. “Look, Cas, I know you’re going to be okay, because you’re awesome and smart and totally competent, which is, by the way, incredibly sexy. But I know these things also have a habit of spinning way out of control, and I’d be lying if I said there wasn’t part of me that was worried too.”

Cas doesn’t say anything, just keeps watching Dean, his eyes widening as Dean pulls the ring out of his pocket and holds it up to him.

“Is that--” Cas asks, tripping over the words.

Oh, fuck. Dean screwed this up already. “It’s not a wedding ring,” he says quickly, feeling a blush rise in his cheeks. “Well, I mean, it is, technically. It was my mom’s wedding ring. But I’m not asking you to marry me, that would be nuts, we’ve only know each other for--”

“Dean,” Cas says gently, “breathe.” 

Dean takes a second to collect himself before continuing. “It was my mom’s ring,” he repeats. “Dad gave it to me after she died, and said she’d always be with me. Looking out for me, you know? So I want you to take it. As a good luck charm.”

“I can’t,” Cas whispers. “What if it gets lost, or damaged, or…”

“I want you to take it,” Dean repeats stubbornly. He doesn’t know why this is so important to him, but it feels like one small thing he can do, one way he can try to keep Cas safe.

Cas reaches out tentatively, and their fingertips brush as he takes the ring from Dean. “It’s beautiful,” he says quietly. “Are you sure you want me to--”

“Yes,” Dean says firmly. “You take it. And when this is all over, you bring it back to me, alright?”

They stare at each other for a moment, Dean trying to keep his face composed, and Castiel biting nervously at his lip.

“Alright,” Cas says eventually. He slips the ring into the small pocket on the breast of his shirt and pats it once. “Safe and sound.”

“And that’s how I want you, too,” Dean tells him, not even caring how cheesy it is. “Safe and sound.”

“I’ll do my best,” Castiel vows.

There isn’t much else left to say, so Dean just leans forward and kisses him. It’s a declaration and a promise all at once. Cas sighs into his mouth, his arms coming up to wrap around Dean in a tight embrace as their mouths crash together urgently. 

“I have to go,” Cas says as he pulls away, leaning his forehead against Dean’s.

“I know,” Dean says hoarsely. He kisses Cas’ cheek and smoothes his hair away from his face. “Go be a hero, Captain Novak.”

Cas laughs, those little crinkles appearing at the corners of his eyes. He looks at Dean like he’s memorizing his every feature, and then with one last wave, he turns his back and steps through the door to the docking bay. It closes behind him, and he’s lost to sight.

Dean stays where he is, listening as the _Seraph_ ’s engines come to life, as the ship pulls out of the docking bay and into the open sky. He doesn’t leave until he can no longer see the ship through the small windows that line the corridor. 

And now, he just has to wait.


	8. Chapter 8

The three-hour trip to Troia is tense and quiet, all the crew lost in their own thoughts. Castiel watches them carefully, but it soon becomes apparent that they’re all focused on the task at hand, checking over their stations and ensuring everything is in proper working order. There really isn’t much for Castiel to do, so he stands abruptly and walks off the bridge, knowing the crew will carry on without him for a few minutes.

He wanders down the halls of his beloved ship, lost in a sea of memories. He took his first steps in that corridor. He said his first word in the galley. He had his first kiss in that chamber. The _Seraph_ is more than a ship to him, and he hates the feeling of dread that’s settled into his stomach, wondering if she’ll make it through this mission.

Wondering if any of them will.

He can hear Dean’s voice in his head, telling him to stay positive, not to give in to despair, and he knows that voice is right. It’s hard to remain optimistic when war is looming for the first time in decades, but Castiel knows that fear will only paralyze them. They have a job to do, and they will see it done.

He feels guilty for leaving his crew behind on the bridge while he went to indulge in self-pity, so with renewed confidence he strides back down the corridor and onto the bridge, clearing his throat as he enters.

“If I may have your attention for a moment?” he says.

They all turn to look at him immediately. Gabriel’s face is curious, Charlie’s nervous, and Hannah’s composed. He smiles reassuringly at them. 

“I know this is a dangerous mission,” he begins. “But we must not give in to fear, especially not yet. The talks are ongoing. There’s still hope that this situation will be resolved without violence. Either way, there are people who will require our aid, and we must be in the best frame of mind to help them.”

He pauses, looking at each of them in turn. “You are the best of the best,” he tells them. “We were specifically requested to take this mission. Let’s show the entire universe why.”

There’s a brief moment of silence, and then--

“Should we applaud?” Gabriel whispers. “I think we should applaud.”

Castiel rolls his eyes fondly. “Not necessary,” he says. “Let’s save that for after the mission is complete.”

“Very well, Captain,” Hannah says. Her eyes are warm as she smiles at him, and Charlie slips an arm around her shoulders, drawing her in for a quick hug. 

“Estimated time of arrival?” Castiel asks.

Charlie takes a quick look at her displays. “Forty-five minutes, sir.”

“Very well,” he says with a nod. “We’ll be landing directly at the Justice Building and docking in Bay 24, according to the documents the Council sent over earlier. The talks are set to conclude at noon, so we’ll have a short wait before our passengers arrive, but we should plan to be ready to depart as soon as everyone is on board.”

“I thought we were being hopeful,” Gabriel mutters.

“There’s hopeful, and then there’s ill-prepared,” Castiel points out. “We can’t risk the latter.”

Gabriel nods. “How many passengers are we expecting?”

Castiel consults the documents on his communicator again. “Five,” he replies. “From various planets.”

“That’s all?” Hannah asks, frowning. “Surely the negotiations have involved more people than that.”

“Not everyone has remained this long,” Castiel says grimly. “I believe there are one or two other vessels prepared to take passengers, but the other diplomats have been steadily departing Troia over the past few days.”

Charlie sighs from her position at the helm. “That’s so sad,” she murmurs. “Giving up like that.”

“Which is exactly why we must not do the same,” Castiel points out, and the others all nod in acknowledgement. 

Their conversation falters after that, but the mood has lightened somewhat. They look calm and composed and ready to deal with whatever they find when they arrive on Troia. 

Charlie guides the ship into Troian airspace with ease, and then it’s mere minutes before they see the domes of the Justice Building in front of them. They’ve come and gone from here so many times in the last few months that it feels like a strange sort of homecoming. 

The docking area is quiet, reminding Castiel of the tense situation they’ve flown into. Normally there’s a steady stream of arriving and departing ships, but like he guessed, there are only two other vessels in sight. They’re both smaller transport ships with room for two passengers each. The _Seraph_ looks enormous in comparison.

“Now what?” Gabriel asks, breaking the silence.

“We wait,” Castiel says softly. He points to the small door tucked in the corner of the docking bay. “Our passengers should be arriving soon. Keep watch.”

He leans over and turns on the news broadcasts. It’s strange, being at the centre of all the action, and yet having to hear about it over the radio. But it’s also much safer this way, for them and for their passengers. They need to be ready to leave quickly if the talks do not go well.

“As we enter the last ten minutes of negotiations, tensions are high,” the broadcaster announces. “We’re receiving reports that-- yes, last-minute indeed! The High Councillor of Troia has produced a new document and is presenting it now. It’s a treaty! A peace treaty!”

Castiel and the crew exchange glances. The fact that the Troians have a treaty is encouraging, but if the Atticans don’t accept it...

“The treaty is being signed!” The broadcaster’s normal composure has broken, excitement and relief clear even over the radio. “Representatives from both planets are signing as I speak, with only four minutes left in this session. We won’t know details for some time, but the mood in the chamber has lightened considerably. Lots of smiles and handshakes all around.”

“Oh thank the stars,” Charlie exclaims, breaking into a wide smile. “What a relief.”

Before Castiel can reply, his communicator beeps at him with a message from Naomi, who has surely been following the news attentively. He reads it quickly, then looks back to the crew. 

“We can expect a slight delay in our passengers’ arrival,” he says with a little laugh. “They’re going to be celebrating and taking photographs for a few minutes, and some of them may stay longer to work out the finer details, though others will still want to go home and see their families before coming back for another round.”

“Looks like we’re not the only ones who got that report,” Gabriel says, gesturing out the window to where the crews of the other transport ships have gathered, chatting amiably. 

“Shall we go join them, Captain?” Hannah asks, and Castiel knows she wouldn’t ask if that wasn’t exactly what she wanted to do.

“Very well,” he says. They have the time, now, and he does feel lighter knowing that peace has been secured. 

They file off the ship and join the other two crews. Castiel recognizes them by name, at least, and they have a common mission to bond over if nothing else. They’re in the middle of commiserating over difficult passengers when they hear the alarm sound.

“What is that?” one of the others asks, looking around frantically. Her captain lays a calming hand on her shoulder and exchanges a grim look with Castiel.

“It’s the security alarm,” he says.

Castiel’s heart sinks, and he pulls out his communicator, checking for new updates. He holds it up so everyone can hear the broadcast.

“We’re receiving reports of an armed suspect at the Troian Justice Building, mere minutes after the peace treaty has been signed,” the announcer says, tripping over his words. “All diplomatic personnel are being evacuated immediately.”

“Shit,” the third captain swears. “Crew, back to your posts. Make ready for departure.”

Castiel nods, his brain kicking into overdrive. The ships have to be ready to fly, but first they need their passengers.

He turns to look at his crew, swallowing roughly. “To your posts,” he says.

He isn’t surprised when Gabriel is the first to protest. “Not without you, Captain.”

Castiel shakes his head decisively. “I’m going to get our passengers,” he states, “and bring them back here. I need you to have the _Seraph_ ready to depart the second we’re on board, and that means I need all of you at your stations.”

“We can’t fly with only our small crews,” the other captain murmurs regretfully. “We’ll all need to be on board in order to be ready to take-off.”

It’s the downside of that size of ship, Castiel knows, needing a full crew to operate it. He nods understandingly and extends his hand for them to shake. “Good luck,” he says. 

Hannah looks at him pleadingly. “Captain, please, let me accompany you.”

“I appreciate your offer, Hannah, but you know why I can’t allow it,” he says heavily. “It’s not a noble desire for self-sacrifice. It’s simple logic.”

Charlie’s face is pale, but she nods and guides Hannah back towards the _Seraph_ throwing Castiel a salute as she does. Gabriel lingers a minute longer, pulling Castiel into a surprisingly tight embrace before following the others.

With a deep breath, he sets off through the corridor towards the centre of the Justice Building, following the familiar path. The alarm continues to sound, but the area is strangely quiet at first, until he turns down a larger hall and into chaos.

He immediately recognizes one of the Troian security officers, who breathes a sigh of relief when she sees him. “Captain Novak!” she shouts over the noise. “I’ve got your passengers here.”

“Thank you, Tessa,” he says gratefully, doing a quick count to ensure he has all five of his passengers. “What about those bound for the _Lightstar_ and the _Geodia_?”

Tessa hesitates, then shakes her head. “I haven’t seen them,” she says.

Castiel curses under his breath, looking around for another group wearing the olive branch pins. The others may not be his direct passengers, but he feels responsible for them nevertheless. The corridor is getting increasingly busy as people move outwards from the centre of the building, fleeing for their ships.

“Over here!” Tessa calls a minute later, practically dragging four others behind her. Castiel gives her a quick nod of thanks and turns on his heel.

“This way,” he says to his little group. “Our ships are standing by to get you out of here.”

Despite the number of people in the corridors, they move quickly back towards the docking bays, everyone frantic to find their ships and seek safety. Castiel looks over his shoulder constantly, making sure his group is still together. 

They push through the door to the docking bays and he breathes a sigh of relief when he sees the familiar shape of the _Seraph_ in front of them. Though he’s sure his crew can see them coming, he reaches for his communicator to alert them anyways, but it’s nowhere to be found. 

He checks all of his pockets, swearing under his breath. It must have fallen out somewhere along the way. 

The four diplomats not travelling with him break away towards their assigned vessels, throwing thanks back towards Castiel as they dash towards safety. He waves in acknowledgement as he watches his own passengers climb up the ramp and disappear into the _Seraph_.

He waits until they’re all aboard before following, the ramp closing even as he steps back onto his beloved ship. He rushes to the bridge as the ship begins to pull away, his crew looking up in relief as he comes to join them.

“Get us out of here, Charlie,” he orders, scrubbing a weary hand over his face.

They made it. They’re safe. He closes his eyes and clutches the side of his chair, forcing himself to breathe naturally, letting his heartbeat settle. But as he opens his eyes again, something catches his attention, back towards the door he and the passengers just ran through.

“What is that--” Gabriel starts to ask before his voice is lost in the echoing boom of an explosion.

***

The news broadcasts have been on in every section of Dean’s ship since Cas and his crew left that morning. He keeps the quiet music on in the main part of the cafe, figuring that the customers may want an escape from the increasingly grim updates, but behind the counter, Dean listens and waits for good news.

“You should turn it off,” Jo advises. “We’ll let you know if something big happens, but you’re driving yourself crazy like this.”

Dean shakes his head. He knows he’s being overly stubborn, but he can’t pull his attention away. 

It’s not only worry for Castiel that keeps him focused on the broadcasts. Space has always been a refuge for Dean. Compared to the chaos of life back on Earth, things here have been relatively peaceful for a long, long time. Dean supposes it had to come to an end eventually, but he wishes it didn’t have to be now. Damn Troia and Attica for their inability to come to an agreement.

Dean can still feel the phantom sensation of Cas’ lips against his, hours later. It’s almost noon, and from what he remembers of what Castiel told him, the last treaty negotiation will be concluding any moment. After that, Cas and his crew will pick up the remaining diplomats and get them out of there, no matter the outcome of the talks.

There’s a noise like a siren going off from the speaker playing the news broadcast, and Dean whirls around to turn up the volume. “We have just received words that a treaty is being signed by representatives of Troia and Attica,” the announcer states. “Further details to come, but we repeat, a treaty is being signed.”

Dean practically slumps to the ground in relief. He had been hoping it wouldn’t come to outright war, but he had still been nervous. Thank the stars for those diplomats and all their hard work, staying until the last possible moment to make sure they could achieve peace. He’ll never give Sam a hard time about his job again.

“They signed a treaty!” he shouts out into the room. The customers break into loud cheers and applause, relief clear on every face. They probably all know people who would have been affected by a war. 

Dean’s communicator beeps at him, and he eagerly grabs it from his pocket. It’s not Cas, as he hoped, but Sam. Not entirely surprising. He’s probably been just as focused on the news broadcasts as Dean has.

“Hey, Sammy,” he greets his brother. “Good news, huh?”

“Hi, Dean. Yeah, I’m really relieved. I’ve got some friends there, you know,” Sam says, pushing his hair back behind his ears. “I’m so proud of them, though. Part of me wishes I could have been involved.”

Dean makes a face at him. “I don’t,” he says bluntly. “I’m glad you were well away from all that.”

“The job’s dangerous, but it’s important,” Sam reminds him.

“I know,” Dean sighs. “I know, Sam.”

“But look, now that we’re out of crisis mode, I should finally be able to take some time off,” Sam continues. “Come hang out for a bit, mess up your kitchen.”

That sounds perfect. Dean smiles at his brother through the screen. “You know the rules. You mess up my kitchen, you don’t get any of the things I make in there.”

“Jo would sneak them to me anyway,” Sam says airily. 

He’s probably right. Damn those puppy-dog eyes of his. Dean’s about to reply when the same siren-like noise sounds from the speakers, and he tenses. 

“Reports are coming in of a hostile attacker at the Troian Justice Building,” the announcer states. “Just minutes after a peace treaty has been signed. Story ongoing.”

Dean looks back at his communicator, and Sam’s face has gone deathly pale. “Oh, no,” he murmurs. “God, I hope they get everyone out in time.”

They would have been celebrating, Dean thinks to himself. Standing around posing for photos and shaking hands. But the ships sent to get them out in case things went wrong would be standing by, fully prepared to depart. He has to cling to that hope.

“I gotta go,” Sam says tersely. “It’s going to get a bit chaotic again. I have to call the Grand Council.”

“Sam, wait,” Dean protests, but it’s too late. Sam has already ended the call.

Dean swears under his breath and throws the communicator down. Jo looks over at him sympathetically and shoos him back towards the kitchen. He nods gratefully at her and flees.

Once he’s safely out of sight, Dean groans and clenches his fists. He should bake something. Something that requires a lot of kneading. It’s good, cathartic movement. He turns up the speakers and gets to work.

There’s a lot of speculation over the next hour, but very few details emerge. It’s almost two hours later before the broadcasts are able to report anything substantive: there was one armed attacker, who managed to cause one explosion before being apprehended and taken into custody. Several people were injured, but so far, there is no evidence of any casualties.

Dean checks his communicator again, but there’s no word from either Sam or Cas. He sighs and gets to work on another batch of potato-rosemary bread. It’s one of Benny’s favourites, and one he’s never quite gotten the hang of making himself, so Dean likes to make it for him. At least someone will have a smile on their face, he reasons.

“Further details are now being revealed about the explosion at the Troian Justice Building. Diplomatic personnel were all evacuated safely, though some ships sustained damage as they took off from their bays, which is where the explosion took place. We are experiencing difficulties contacting the ships in question, perhaps due to the effects of the explosion on their communication systems.”

That doesn’t sound good. Rather than waiting around for word from Cas, Dean decides to be proactive. He calls him, but there’s no answer. He tries again five minutes later, and still nothing.

He could be busy, Dean tells himself. He has to stay calm. They said the ships sustained damages, but that they still took off. Cas is probably fine.

He has to be.

Dean keeps calling, and Cas keeps not picking up. It’s early evening when Benny comes in, takes one look at Dean, and tells him to go to bed.

“I’m fine,” Dean says through gritted teeth. “I gotta…”

“Keep driving yourself nuts?” Benny finishes. “Not on my watch. I don’t care if you sleep or not, but go lie down at least. I’m tired and stressed out just looking at you.”

“I need to get in touch with Cas,” Dean says desperately. “Benny, I need to know that he’s okay.”

Benny holds out his hand. “Give me your communicator.” 

“No way.” Dean clutches the device protectively to his chest. 

“I will take it from you,” his friend threatens. “Look. I’ll keep it with me. If Cas calls, I will run down that passage faster than I have ever run in my life and wake you up. I swear.”

With a heavy sigh, Dean passes the communicator over. “Fast as you can.”

“I promise,” Benny says solemnly. “Try to get some rest, Dean. Castiel knows what he’s doing. I’m sure he’s fine.”

Dean isn’t as easily convinced, but he does as Benny suggests and tries to get some rest. He has the news broadcasts playing in his quarters, of course, and they’re full of stories from people who were at the Justice Building when the explosion occurred, talking about what they saw and heard. None of their stories provide Dean with much comfort. He just needs to hear one voice, and that’s Castiel’s. 

Maybe he should have a drink. Or a few. But he dismisses the thought quickly, knowing that alcohol will probably only make him more emotional and less reasonable. More likely to do something dumb, like go off looking for Cas rather than waiting to hear from him.

After pacing around the room for what seems like an eternity, Dean finally throws himself down on his bed. He might just be imagining things, but he swears he can still smell Castiel on his sheets. He curls in on himself, holding a pillow tightly to his chest, and plays over the night before in his mind. How good Castiel felt inside him, all around him. How sweet the things he whispered in Dean’s ear were as they moved together in the dark. How nice it was to fall asleep holding him. 

Eventually, his exhaustion wins out, and Dean falls into an uneasy sleep.

He wakes groggy and disoriented, unsure how much time has passed. He realizes pretty quickly that Benny hasn’t come to wake him, which means there’s been no word from Cas. Dean groans and rolls over, burying his face in his pillow and letting out a muffled scream. He could stay in bed, try to go back to sleep...but he knows it’s pointless. It’s morning, and his body is rested. He has to get up.

He forces himself to take a shower and put on decent clothes, then heads back to the kitchen. It’s quiet, so he sticks his head out into the main room of the cafe. Jo’s nowhere in sight, but Benny is chatting easily to a customer. As promised, Dean’s communicator is within reach on the counter beside him. 

He waits until the customer is gone, and then slides up beside Benny, who turns and gives him a critical look. “You didn’t sleep very late.”

“At least I slept,” Dean points out.

Benny sighs and claps Dean on the shoulder. “Coffee?”

“Yes please.” He doesn’t even have to request the specialty blend. Benny puts it on without hesitating, and Dean’s swept by a sudden wave of gratitude for his friend. 

Once he has his coffee, he figures there’s no point in both of them being there, though. It’s pretty quiet in the cafe, and Dean could use something to distract him. Keeping busy will be good for him.

“I’ve got it from here,” he tells Benny. “Your turn to get some sleep.”

“You sure?” Benny asks. “I don’t mind staying, if you want the company.”

As much as Dean appreciates his friends, they do have a tendency to take their worrying a bit too far. Just like he does, if he’s being honest with himself. He’s just not used to being the one coddled.

“Go,” he says, forcing a smile. 

Benny leaves, though he doesn’t look too happy about it. Dean busies himself tidying up behind the counter, rearranging pastries in the display case and making sure everything is well-stocked. As the morning goes on, it gets progressively busier in the cafe, and as he predicted, keeping himself busy is the best solution. It keeps him focused on something other than his worries.

The broadcasts are still full of speculation without any real facts, though both Attica and Troia have made it clear that their treaty still holds, thank the stars. Dean is getting sick of hearing the same few rehearsed statements from government officials, but he can’t bring himself to turn off the broadcast. He doesn’t know if he’s waiting for good news or for bad news, but at this point, anything seems better than no news at all.

It’s mid-afternoon when the door slides open and Dean looks up from the coffee he’s pouring to see Castiel walk in. 

He almost drops the mug in shock, but manages to save it from shattering, though he does lose some of the coffee to the floor beneath him. He passes it over to his waiting customer without looking at her, knowing he’s being rude but finding it hard to care.

Cas smiles at him tiredly. There’s a small cut on one of his cheekbones, and he’s standing a little stiffly, like he has bruises that are covered by his uniform. He still looks beautiful. Dean moves without thinking, emerging from behind the counter and rushing over to join him where he stands.

“Hello, Dean,” he says.

“Jesus, Cas,” Dean breathes out. “I was so worried about you.”

Cas flinches. “I’m sorry,” he says quietly. “We were trying to get everyone out, and my communicator fell out of my pocket and I didn’t have your number saved anywhere else and we had so many passengers to get home safely, plus I made sure the crew got back to their families first, so I’m sorry it took me so long to get here and--”

Dean raises a gentle hand to cradle Castiel’s uninjured cheek, and Castiel stops mid-sentence. He looks at Dean, mouth still parted. Dean swallows roughly, then closes the distance between them and kisses him.

Castiel practically crumples into Dean’s embrace, his arms coming up around him like he never plans to let go, and Dean’s holding him back just as tightly. He presses his lips firmly against Castiel’s, thrilled to have him here and whole. 

“I’m sorry,” Castiel repeats, drawing back slightly but still holding onto Dean.

“You got nothing to be sorry about, sweetheart,” Dean tells him softly, pressing a kiss to his cheek. “You’re here. You’re okay. That’s all that matters.”

Castiel sighs, then nods, reluctantly pulling away from Dean’s embrace. “It was close for a while there,” he confesses. “There was a point I wasn’t sure we were going to make it.”

He obviously needs to talk about it, so Dean steers him to a comfortable chair and guides him into it. “You’re gonna tell me all about it,” he informs Cas. “As much or as little as you need to. But first,” he winks, “you’re gonna need some hot chocolate.”

There’s a hint of a smile on Castiel’s otherwise tired face. “That sounds perfect,” he says.

Dean doesn’t really want to leave him alone even for the few minutes it will take to prepare his drink, but it’s also strangely important to him that he be the one to make the hot chocolate for Cas. He’s always poured his feelings, his affection and his devotion, into the things he makes, and this time is no different.

He picks a large blue mug that matches the colour of Castiel’s eyes, smiling at his own sentimentality, and he even scribbles a little heart and star onto the whipped cream with chocolate syrup. He presents the mug to Cas, who looks down at it for a second with a strange expression on his face, and then bursts into laughter.

Dean flushes, already regretting his impulsive artistic decision. But Castiel looks up at him, and his eyes are soft and fond. “This is the nicest thing anyone has ever done for me,” he says, and Dean’s pretty sure he isn’t joking.

“What, you’ve never had someone draw you a heart on your latte before? Write their communicator number on your coffee cup?” Dean teases, watching as Cas takes his first sip. His eyes close in appreciation, and when he sets the mug back down, there’s a hint of whipped cream stuck to his upper lip.

No way is Dean going to pass up an opportunity like that. He leans over and kisses it away before Castiel can even blink.

He laughs again, and Dean’s heart turns over in his chest, an answering smile rising to his lips. “Guess that makes me special, huh,” he says.

“Yes it does,” Cas agrees. He slips his free hand into Dean’s and runs his thumb gently over Dean’s knuckles. “I might actually need that number, you know.”

“I’ll put it on your next to-go cup,” Dean promises.

A strange look crosses Cas’ face at his words, and Dean falters, wondering if he said something wrong.

“I don’t want any to-go cups for the near future,” Cas says quietly. “I’ve dropped all the crew off, and we’re not taking any bookings for the next few weeks.” He pauses, holding Dean’s gaze steadily. “I’d like to spend as much of that time with you as possible.”

Dean’s breath catches in his throat, and he can’t find the words to reply for a few moments. But finally, he just nods. “Yeah,” he says. “Yeah, that sounds good.”

“I can’t wait for you to bring me breakfast in bed,” Castiel muses. “Those honey-almond croissants, a nice cup of tea…”

It’s a good thing Dean is pretty secure in his knowledge of how Cas feels about him, otherwise he’d start to worry he was only interested in him for his abilities in the kitchen. But he isn’t concerned. He was already planning to spoil Cas rotten.

“Mmn-hmn,” he agrees with a wink. “We’re gonna need the calories.”

Castiel’s eyes crinkle up as he grins. “Exactly.”

Dean really wants to kiss him again, but he catches sight of a customer waiting at the counter. With a sigh, he gets to his feet. “Duty calls.”

“Go,” Cas says. “I’ll be right here.”

His words are simple, but they’re exactly what Dean needs to hear. He blows Cas a kiss as he saunters back to the front of the room, offering a bright smile to the man waiting there.

“Welcome to _The Family Business_ ,” he says. “What can I get for you today?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for reading! This story began way back in January when I thought it would be my entry for the hey sweetheart challenge, and then it took on a life of its own and ended up here. I'm so glad it did, because that gave it the chance to be so wonderfully enriched by Aceriee's gorgeous artwork.


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